


An Unlikely Partnership

by Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Series: Staking a claim [2]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:52:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: Lincoln's relationship with Alex gradually begins to grow a lot more serious, while the other members of the team begin to figure things out.  But due to their current occupation, there is always the threat of the Company lurking in the background.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation to "Damaged but not beyond repair", and proof that my interest in this pairing has regained that spark that it had originally lost. Thanks to the wonderfully kind reviews/kudos that have encouraged me to write more Lincoln/Alex! *^^* I really appreciate any and all comments because they really inspire me to continue writing for this fandom.
> 
> This fanfic was supposed to be 4 parts but I added a couple of extra scenes to make it 5!

“Quit fidgeting. You’re drawing attention.” Lincoln strode confidently through the Los Angeles Farmers Market, his manner towards the bodies in his way appearing brusque and threatening. That was the way he liked to be perceived because that way no one would have the nerve to get close enough to stand on his feet or elbow him in the gut. Which was the treatment every other poor sap wandering around the food stands was getting, Alex included.

 

“I’m not fidgeting,” Alex retorted in irritation, contradicting himself by wringing his hands every so often and nervously looking over his shoulder whenever he thought Lincoln wasn’t watching. But it wasn’t until a particularly large black man herding his children past the candy apple stand appeared in Alex’s peripheral vision that the ex-agent really began to freak out. Having just caught a glimpse of the man’s approximate height and skin tone, Alex whirled around in abject terror to face him, mistaking him for the hired mercenary Wyatt. It only took him a second to realize his error, but in that time he’d managed to frighten the young father of three into hurriedly dragging his children away from the wide-eyed stranger dressed all in black.

 

“C’mere,” Lincoln said gruffly, dropping his arm around Alex’s slim waist and pulling him close to his right side. Once Alex was safely up against him, the crowd began to weave around the ex-agent instead of shoving him out of the way. The decreased unwanted physical contact would hopefully bring Alex’s tension levels down a few notches. Lincoln couldn’t have his new boyfriend hopping about like a terrified rabbit at his side because it reflected bad on him. Who the hell would respect a man who couldn’t look after what belonged to him? Nobody. It made no difference that Alex was a man because Lincoln had no experience with going on dates with men – although screwing them was something entirely different – so he had just opted to treat his boyfriend like a regular female companion. And that meant looking out for and taking care of him. “He’s not going to come after you here. It’s too public.”

 

“Are you kidding me? He’s the reason silencers are so popular,” Alex said, sounding slightly paranoid. He shifted his weight again, bumping into Lincoln as yet another Wyatt lookalike came barreling towards them, only to veer off in the direction of the vendor selling smoking hot flatbreads.

 

“Would you relax,” Lincoln commanded, gripping Alex’s narrow hip with his large hand to hold him in place. But it was like holding onto a lithe, squirming black panther. Alex had taken to constantly wearing black, either to mourn the death of his son, or to let the whole world know that he wanted to blend into the shadows and be ignored. While the black sweater and black jeans that the ex-agent had chosen to wear on their first _date_ made for a very smart looking outfit – for a burglar – it wasn’t a very flattering look for someone as lively and attractive as Alex. It was perfectly acceptable for Lincoln to stroll about in a pair of ripped and faded blue jeans, with his white t-shirt hanging out, and his beige Adidas sneakers covered in mud, but Alex needed to adhere to higher standards. Lincoln would’ve preferred Alex in that baby blue button-down shirt that he kept neatly folded by his bedside, along with a nice pair of dark slacks. Because Alex was intelligent and classy and really knew how to pull off the business casual look with style. All the black outfit was doing for Alex was making him look pale and depressing against the background of a cheerful blue afternoon sky, and telling the general public that he didn’t know how to dress himself.

 

Lincoln kept thinking that they were on a date, but maybe _date_ wasn’t the right word because he didn’t really do dates. He only took people places, treated them to an average meal, and bought them cheap trinkets as a way of remembering the occasion. And if that didn’t get him into their pants afterwards, he would often find himself putting a couple of bucks down on some cheap booze to make sure that he did. Not that he imagined that Alex could be plied with a couple of beers or a bottle of domestic red wine, making him easier to seduce. Alex had too much control for that, and if Lincoln had to resort to such underhanded measures to get him into bed, he wouldn’t be interested anyway. If – _when_ – they got sexually involved, he wanted Alex to willingly give it up to him because that would make it all the sweeter.

 

At a seemingly popular red and white stall a few meters away, Lincoln lined up with Alex and tried to calm the tremors that were accosting that slim frame. Alex had been acting jumpier than usual ever since that courthouse fiasco from two days ago, when he’d come dangerously close to being murdered by Wyatt. And he wasn’t the only one. Lincoln found his own hands shaking whenever he thought about how he’d almost lost Alex that afternoon. But his hands didn’t shake with fear, they shook with a fury that he could barely contain. He’d been all psyched to rescue Alex by himself – secretly – when Michael had come to his senses and organized the courthouse breakout. And it had been a damn good thing that he had because Lincoln might not have been able to pull it off on his own. Wyatt was just too slippery and determined, having gotten far too close to getting his hands on Alex. The monster of an assassin had even chased Alex back to the getaway vehicle, having had no qualms about gunning the ex-agent down in broad daylight. It was that kind of ballsy attitude that really fired up Lincoln’s temper. The only thing that would appease that fury would be his knuckles ripping open multiple bloody holes in Wyatt’s smug, trippy face. Only after he was finished using Wyatt’s ugly mug as a punching bag would he hand him over to Alex to vengefully do with as he pleased. But if Lincoln intended to rip into Wyatt, he would have to find him and do it soon, before Alex developed the genuine need for prescription tranquilizers.

 

 _We make our own old fashioned ice cream,_ Lincoln read the sign as they got closer to Bennett’s Ice Cream Stall, thankful that the line was moving forward quickly. He pulled out a crumpled up wad of cash from the pocket of his blue jeans, thumbed through it to count off $7 in bills, and then jammed the remainder back into his pocket. “Do you have a favorite flavor?” He asked his distracted companion, getting nothing back except for a blank stare. Lincoln might have physical possession of Alex, but the ex-agent’s mind was a mile away. “Suit yourself. I’ll order whatever,” he said flippantly. And as soon as he was up at the counter, he did exactly that. “One triple cone with pistachio, caramel, and mint chocolate chip.” He relinquished his hold on Alex momentarily to hand over the bills and get his 50 cents in change. But as soon as the ice cream cone was in his left hand, he returned his right hand to Alex, but this time he pushed his hand down the ex-agent’s back right pocket to grab at his ass. And what a nicely toned ass it was.

 

“Hey!” Alex complained, trying to escape Lincoln’s groping hand.

 

“Hey yourself.” Lincoln refused to be shaken off, leading Alex off in a completely different direction as he took a big swipe at the top scoop of the ice cream cone with his tongue. “Damn thing is so puny,” he muttered, before practically inhaling a big mouthful of pistachio and squinting at what he’d left behind. “Not bad.” He then held the ice cream cone out for Alex to try, smirking when the cherished treat of Americans everywhere caught the attention of those captivating blue eyes. He said nothing when Alex leaned forward to lick the depleted portion of pistachio, but the dirty part of his mind was thinking plenty.

 

“It’s pretty good,” Alex conceded, doing his best to get in another few licks before Lincoln pulled it away and chomped off the entire top scoop. But when the ice cream cone reappeared in front of him, Alex knowingly gave Lincoln an annoyed look. “Why did you order the caramel if you don’t like it?”

 

“Who says I don’t like caramel?”

 

“The fact that you ate the scoop of pistachio without so much as licking the caramel gave you away.”

 

Lincoln shrugged. Alex was too damn good with those perceptive skills of his. “Fine. You caught me. I hate caramel. But it’s one of the most popular flavors so I thought that _you_ might like it.”

 

Alex laughed shortly at Lincoln’s failed logic and turned his head away from the ice cream cone. “I don’t like caramel either.”

 

“Looks like we found something we have in common,” Lincoln said as he fondly squeezed Alex’s ass through his jeans, urging him to come closer.

 

Realizing that there was nothing he could do about Lincoln’s manhandling, Alex moved closer still, wrapping an arm around Lincoln’s waist so that his own arm wouldn’t keep getting jammed between them. It was much easier to match Lincoln’s stride that way as they entered the area with the real food.

 

Even though Lincoln was pretty damn pleased with himself for pushing Alex into returning his public displays of affection, he was well aware that his companion was still not comfortable with the whole concept of being seen with another man. It wasn’t that Alex wasn’t open to the idea because he’d been exposed to a hell of a lot of homosexual interaction in Sona, though none of which that he’d participated in – apparently. Rather, Alex didn’t like people gawking at him because it made him feel self-conscious and wreaked havoc with his anxiety.

 

“I dislike caramel because it tastes too salty. Why don’t you like it?”

 

If Alex was volunteering information on himself, Lincoln was definitely making progress with the usually mute ex-agent who clammed up whenever things became emotionally unbearable for him. He hadn’t always been that way. Before he’d been cocky and just the right degree of overconfident to give Michael a run for his money. The loss of his son had stripped Alex of his confidence and basically formatted his personality, leaving his emotions raw and his ability to interact shaky at best. Thankfully the only things that hadn’t been affected by his trauma were his superior intelligence and quick wit. “Because it tastes like shit,” he said simply, causing Alex to falter in his step. “What? Do I need an actual reason to hate it?”

 

“I guess not.”

 

Bringing the ice cream cone back up to his mouth, Lincoln devoured the scoop of caramel and made a face. “Definitely tastes like shit.”

 

“Then why did you eat it?”

 

“Did you see how much this thing cost? Anyway, now you’ll have an easier time getting to the mint chocolate chip.” He passed the ice cream cone over for Alex to take and pulled out his cell phone that was vibrating against his hip inside his pocket. Yet another text message.

 

_Linc, is Alex with u?_

_I could use an extra set of eyes on this code._

Michael again. Why was it that when his younger brother took Sara out on a date he was not to be disturbed, but when Lincoln took off for a couple of hours he had to keep checking in? And be expected to hand over his date whenever Michael thought it convenient? Probably because the others had no idea that Lincoln was out with Alex in that context. They’d only been involved with each other for a week, and in all that time nobody had caught them doing anything other than talking. That’s why they met outside on the pier after midnight, to escape the prying eyes of their teammates. And even then they were still at the kissing/embracing stage with no contact below the waist – current fondling of the ass excluded – which was something new for Lincoln. He usually didn’t care so much for the kissing since he was a practical man. The real pleasure for him came from a nice, long, intense fuck. And it didn’t matter whether he was fucking a man or a woman, because he’d stopped being selective after his long stint in prison, it just had to be _good_.  But everyone that Lincoln had slept with had been after the same thing – a quick romp in the hay with no future obligations on either side. That was not what Alex was after, and that was not how Lincoln intended to treat him. He wanted his vulnerable companion to heal and open up to him, not shrivel up and die inside. If at any point Alex felt like he was being used, Lincoln knew that that would destroy him for good. Besides, kissing Alex was nice, erotic even. Because boy could that man moan.

 

“Linc? Is something wrong?” Alex asked, halfway through the mint chocolate chip and looking like he wanted to pass it back again.

 

“Nah. Just Michael.” Holding the cell phone at an angle so that Alex wouldn’t be able to read the screen, Lincoln clumsily entered a response with his left thumb.

 

_Alex is sick or something._

_Must’ve been something he ate._

_Text u l8r._

Almost immediately, a new message came in before Lincoln could turn off the phone.

 

_Sick how?_

_Sara’s here._

_Give her his symptoms._

“For fuck’s sake,” Lincoln swore as he impulsively sent back a scathing response.

 

_Sick as in fed up._

_Can u leave him alone for like 5 minutes?!_

_Fuck!_

And then he turned off his phone.

 

“Is Michael going to be in a bad mood when we get back?” Alex asked in a completely unsubtle manner, not being able to see what Lincoln had typed, but having no trouble reading his facial expression.

 

“You can count on it.” Well, Lincoln would just have to deal with his control freak of a brother when they got back. If Michael were irritated enough, he might try to hunt him down at several of his regular haunts, but he would have no luck finding Lincoln there. Or Alex. Today Lincoln had vowed to be completely unpredictable, and on his best behavior, in order to do something nice for Alex. Something that might take his boyfriend’s mind off of all the suffering and tragedy in his life for a short time and get him to focus on Lincoln instead.

 

 _Now that’s what I’m talking about!_ Lincoln released Alex as something at the back of the aisle caught his eye. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Lincoln left Alex standing in front of a flower shop, holding the ice cream cone and looking a little lost.

 

* * *

 

Alex waited outside the flower shop for three whole minutes, having already reluctantly finished the ice cream cone, before the wave of shoppers milling around in front of it forced him inside. It was there that he was confronted by a young girl – obviously a part-timer and still in school – who wore her long blond hair in braids and had a pretty floral dress on underneath her red apron.

 

“Your boyfriend isn’t into giving flowers, huh?” She said chattily, smiling at Alex as she walked past him with a vase of violet orchids that she put on display out front.

 

“Uh… he isn’t… I don’t think that’s how I’d categorize our relationship,” Alex corrected her nervously. Because Lincoln had never come out and stated that they were on a date, or that Alex was anything other than a temporary amusement to him. Of course Alex believed that Lincoln genuinely cared about him, and the possessive posturing did not look at all fake, but he just had trouble picturing a man as tough as Lincoln wanting to have a long-term relationship with him. Alex had studied Lincoln in great detail when he’d originally been in pursuit of him after his escape from Fox River. Everything about the ex-con’s history had illustrated a man who treated women as expendable objects, had a ball with recreational drugs, and physically assaulted anyone who got in his way. There had been a few observations on Lincoln’s relationships in Fox River, mostly speculations about the men that he may have been sexually involved with. And then there had been the unfortunate mention of Lincoln having contracted an STD as a result of one of his flings with an inmate. He’d been treated for it and given a clean bill of health afterwards, but that wasn’t what concerned Alex. What troubled Alex was how frivolously Lincoln went from one bedmate to the next. Alex considered himself to be a loyal and considerate family man, having spent 12 years of his life with his ex-wife and their son. He hadn’t been with anyone in the two years since his divorce because he’d been holding onto hope that when the Company stopped blackmailing him he would be able to reunite with Pam and Cameron.

 

Although Alex had never been in a relationship with a man, he was no stranger to the advances of one. He’d had plenty of men of questionable character pursuing him in Sona. Some had done it subtly, trailing after him in the shadows and giving him longing looks from a distance. Others had been more straightforward, propositioning him on the spot with offers of protection, food, and water laid out to sweeten the deal. And then there had been the odd one or two who had just tried to take what they were after when Alex had been asleep or alone in the showers. He had rejected every last one of them, becoming exceptionally violent with the ones who had not been willing to take _no_ for an answer. Even when he’d been outnumbered or outranked in power, he had resorted to whatever means was necessary in order to eliminate anyone who had posed a threat to him. Having been high on whatever T-Bag had been supplying him with had really helped at the time. But when he’d stopped accepting handouts from T-Bag, he’d gone through an excruciatingly painful withdrawal that had left him weak and helpless on the floor of his prison cell. And that’s when Eduardo had stepped in.

 

Not all the prisoners in Sona had been equal, and not all of them had been stone-cold killers, or entirely heartless. Michael was a prime example of an individual who hadn’t been suitable for the Sona environment. And if Alex were to be completely honest with himself, he hadn’t belonged there either, because everything he had done – regardless of how horrible – had been under duress. The only real crime that he’d been responsible for was the murder of Oscar Shales, a brutal serial killer who the world was better off without. He had never wanted to kill anyone after that. Certainly not a young kid whose only crime was to steal some stupid baseball card, and not a mentally ill man who had been off his meds at the time of his escape. And he felt absolutely wretched over the lucky shot that had taken out Aldo Burrows, Lincoln and Michael’s father. Alex regretted every innocent life he had been forced to tamper with or end at the command of the Company. But he’d had absolutely no choice. It had been either kill the enemies of the Company, or have his own family be put up as expendable targets.

 

Had the Panama government been willing to hear his side of the story?   Most certainly not. And they hadn’t been at all interested in listening to how Michael had set him up with those packs of cocaine that he’d planted on the _Christina Rose._ Alex had thought that nothing could be worse than being under the thumb of the Company, until he’d been locked up in a lawless penitentiary with the worst serial killers, dangerous sexual predators, and psychotically deranged men that Panama had to offer. If Eduardo hadn’t taken pity on him…

 

The crimes that Eduardo had been convicted of had been enough to get him sentenced to life in Sona. Murder, illegal entry into a country, multiple charges of assault, drug trafficking, theft, and so on. But he hadn’t been without a conscience. If the large, intimidating Brazilian man with the dreadlocks hadn’t staked a claim on Alex while he’d been shivering and hallucinating on the floor of his cell, he knew that he would have been gang raped by the men he had previously fended off. It had been a brief association because Alex had escaped with Michael a few days later, but Eduardo had made it an unforgettable one. Eduardo had lifted Alex off of the rough concrete floor and returned him to his bunk. He’d seen to it that Alex had had enough water to drink and had bundled him up in blankets to keep him warm when the chills of withdrawal had become unbearable. And he’d held Alex close during the night, lying down behind him and murmuring soothing words of reassurance to him. At least that’s what Alex had interpreted them as since he didn’t speak any Portuguese, only hearing gibberish against the back of his neck as Eduardo had stroked a comforting hand through his damp hair.

 

Eduardo hadn’t wanted anything in return for his charitable act, somehow managing to convey to Alex that he reminded the Brazilian of someone near and dear to him, perhaps a lover who he had been separated from. But Alex had been deeply touched by Eduardo’s kindness, as well as felt some indescribable emotion towards him that had motivated him to embrace the man in order to show his gratitude. And that had led to Eduardo kissing him. Whereas Alex the straight-as-an-arrow family man would have shied away from such a blatant display of homosexuality, the newly changed affection-starved Alex had been eager to reciprocate. It had just been a kiss, but it had been an incredibly passionate kiss. But, as sincere as it had been, it paled in comparison to how Alex felt when Lincoln kissed him. Or when Lincoln embraced him with those powerful, tattooed arms of his. Alex now knew that he was open to a relationship with either a man or a woman, just so long as it was a lasting and wholesome relationship. But is that what Lincoln was after? Alex was afraid of how fast and hard he was falling for Lincoln, worrying that if the ex-con stayed true to habit he would eventually be discarded and replaced.

 

“Alex?”

 

Alex looked up from the shelves of miniature cacti that he’d been staring at to find Lincoln gazing at him with concern. It was as if those perceptive green eyes could read his mind because they narrowed with sympathy for a moment before becoming somewhat guarded again. His features had probably given away the sadness of his thoughts, which worried Alex because Lincoln didn’t seem to be comfortable with his sorrow. “Linc… I… um…”

 

“How about a bouquet of sunflowers to cheer your boyfriend up?” The store owner – a short graying man in his 50’s – asked Lincoln solicitously as he held up the vase of big yellow and burnt-orange sunflowers. The young girl had disappeared sometime during Alex’s reminiscing, leaving the old man to watch him curiously.

 

Alex was on the verge of correcting the man when Lincoln moved forward to latch onto his waist and pull him close. “Thanks, but I’m not gonna pay ten bucks for a bunch of flowers that are just gonna die in a few days. Anyway, I got my boyfriend something nicer than sunflowers.”

 

“He’s not trying to be rude,” Alex said apologetically before he was dragged out of the store by Lincoln. And then it hit him, Lincoln had referred to him as his _boyfriend_ , and not to be sarcastic.

 

“You okay?” Lincoln asked, his tone rough and worried.

 

“Yeah, sorry, I was just remembering something.”

 

“I don’t like it when you _remember something_ ,” Lincoln grumbled, possessively tightening his hold and leading Alex away from the flower shop. “Maybe if I don’t leave you alone again, you’ll stop remembering and looking so damn miserable.”

 

Was Lincoln angry with him? It was often difficult to differentiate between Lincoln’s words of concern and words of anger because they both sounded the same. “I said that I was sorry,” Alex repeated, beginning to get upset when his paranoid mind chose to go with the anger over the concern.

 

Lincoln pulled Alex into a quiet corner behind one of the shops and just looked at him with his impassive face. But behind those cold green eyes there lurked compassion and a warmer emotion that had yet to be defined. “I’m not angry,” Lincoln explained quickly, indicating that he realized just how easily his moods could be misconstrued. “So you don’t have to say you’re sorry. I just hate it when you look so fucking sad.” And then he placed a small paper bag into Alex’s hands and looked at him expectantly. “I got you something.”

 

Not knowing what to say, Alex reached in and pulled out a silver circular ornament with sky blue beads woven into the center of it in an intricate pattern, and silver and blue bushy feathers fastened to the bottom with thin leather ribbons.

 

“It’s a dreamcatcher.”

 

“I know what it is,” Alex said as he tentatively brushed his fingertips over the tapered feathers and tried to control his emotional reaction to the gift. He was more accustomed to giving gifts than he was to receiving them, so this unexpected gift from Lincoln had pushed Alex into some unfamiliar territory. Like everything else Lincoln introduced him to had a habit of doing. “Thank you, Linc. It’s very nice.” _Nice_ was really an understatement. _Sweet_ and _thoughtful_ was more like it, but Alex didn’t have the courage to say that out loud. Although Lincoln hadn’t explained why he had bought such an exotic gift, Alex assumed that it was probably because he was still having nightmares at night. Maybe Lincoln wasn’t as insensitive as he wanted everyone to believe he was. Alex was deeply moved by the unsolicited gift, and by the reassurance that Lincoln was treating him like a boyfriend and not some temporary fling. _$24.99. 20% off._ If only Lincoln hadn’t left the price tag hanging on the dreamcatcher…

 

“So, do I get a kiss?”

 

“What?” Alex looked into Lincoln’s serious face, before allowing his eyes to dart to the men, women, and children who continued to pass by them on either side of the shop, and then focused back on his boyfriend. “Sure, later, in the car.”

 

“No, here,” Lincoln insisted, taking one step towards Alex.

 

And Alex took one step back, only to discover that there was a wall behind him and he had nowhere to escape to. “Linc, there are people _everywhere_ ,” Alex protested.

 

“So stop looking at them.”

 

When Lincoln pressed him back against the wall and sealed their lips together, the first thought on Alex’s mind was how he was going to kick the larger man’s ass for such an impropriety. He didn’t want to become a public spectacle, making out like a horny teenager in front of so many onlookers. But as soon as Lincoln’s arms wrapped around him and he felt himself being pulled against that muscular chest, Alex found himself melting into the kiss. Suddenly he didn’t care that he could hear a woman whistling in the background, or the angry words of a young man telling them to get a room. The only thing that mattered was how warm and alive Lincoln made him feel, how much Lincoln wanted and _needed_ him. And how much Alex wanted and needed Lincoln. The kiss was hot and wet, and full of Lincoln’s probing tongue, but it was over before anyone with authority could tell them off.

 

“Now _that_ was a nice kiss,” Lincoln said smartly as he caressed Alex’s face and just admired him.

 

There was nothing that Alex could really say to that because it had been a really nice kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Sucre came down with the flu and everyone except for Michael and Sara made themselves scarce in the sleeping area to avoid catching his germs.

 

“How is he?” Michael asked as he casually inspected each and every cot, along with the stainless steel utility shelves in between each one. He only did this with his eyes because every member of their team kept close track of how they left their personal items. Nobody wanted any other member of the team snooping around their belongings or touching their personal treasures.

 

Sara straightened up from where she’d been listening to Sucre’s lungs with the stethoscope and jotted something down in her notes. “Well, it looks like he’s got a mild form of bronchitis to accompany his flu and high fever.” She was on the verge of saying something else when Sucre rolled onto his side to cough. It wasn’t a regular cough. It was a deafening, frightening cough that wracked Sucre’s body with uncontrollable quakes and left him hoarsely wheezing afterwards.

 

“Isn’t bronchitis contagious?” Michael asked as he found himself in front of Alex’s cot, allowing his eyes to roam over the ex-agent’s personal items.

 

“It is,” Sara said in a light tone, as if congratulating Michael on being so knowledgeable. She didn’t sound the least bit concerned that Sucre might infect everyone else with his wretched plague-like symptoms. “But it can be easily treated with antibiotics. So long as no one in here has a compromised immune system, I think that we should be fine. Sucre will be back on his feet again in about a week.”

 

“Hmm,” Michael made an introspective sound that had nothing to do with Sara’s prognosis. “Sara, was this here before?”

 

“Was what here before?”

 

When Sara looked up, Michael gestured to the silver and blue dreamcatcher that was hanging off of one of the shelves that belonged to Alex. “This.”

 

“That’s a dreamcatcher,” Sara replied with mild interest.

 

“I know what it is. I’m just wondering when Alex put it here. I don’t remember seeing it before.”

 

“And you wouldn’t because it’s new.”

 

Trusting Sara’s memory as much as he did his own, Michael daringly leaned over to touch the dreamcatcher, checking it for any identifying marks. Alex didn’t just buy pretty ornaments with the intention of displaying them for aesthetic appeal. No, everything in Alex’s life and immediate environment had to have a purpose. He didn’t own anything that he didn’t wear, and didn’t display anything that he didn’t use. The only accessory that Alex had bothered to keep was a pair of prescription eyeglasses that he required for reading. The ex-agent was farsighted so he was never without his very simple, wire-framed spectacles. But that was it. He kept nothing else of sentimental value. No necklaces, no bracelets, no charms of any kind. “Why would Alex buy a dreamcatcher?”

 

“Oh, Alex didn’t buy it for himself,” Sara said intuitively as she fixed the blankets around Sucre and left him to his feverish dreams. “Lincoln bought it for him.”

 

Michael gave Sara a firm look of disbelief as his girlfriend came up behind him to check out Alex’s new gift. “Why would Linc buy Alex a dreamcatcher? No, never mind that. Why would my brother give Alex _anything_?” Sara’s answer was so inconceivable that Michael thought that she’d started drinking again, until she repeated herself with a sober conviction that he found truly upsetting.

 

“Lincoln is sweet on Alex, in case you haven’t noticed.”

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

Sara smirked and hugged Michael from behind, which did nothing to conceal the fact that she was grinning against his shoulder. “You have noticed that they’ve been spending an awful lot of time together, right?”

 

“Yeah, because Linc is consoling Alex over the death of his son,” Michael said in exasperation. “It’s nothing more than that. Linc is also a father so it’s only natural that he’d feel sorry for Alex’s loss. And why are you jumping to the conclusion that Linc bought this dreamcatcher for Alex?”

 

“Because Lincoln dropped the receipt for it when he emptied his pockets to find change for the parking meter this morning. Along with a receipt for two orders of fish and chips down at Tusquellas Fish & Oyster Bar. They were both printed with yesterday’s date. Didn’t you say that Lincoln was out with Alex yesterday?”

 

“I did, but…,” Michael blindly grasped for something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. While his brother hanging out with Alex could be innocent enough, Lincoln paying for the meal and buying Alex a gift most certainly was not. Whenever Lincoln put down money on something, it acted as an investment of sorts. Lincoln never paid for anything unless he expected to get something back in return. And what was the significance of the dreamcatcher? Was Alex having nightmares? Michael didn’t have much of an interest in Alex’s private life so he had never bothered to ask the ex-agent how he slept at night. But apparently Lincoln knew something about it, otherwise he never would have bought an object that held such significance. Not that Michael actually believed that a mass produced dreamcatcher was actually capable of warding off nightmares. And if Alex was as skeptical as him, he probably didn’t believe it either. So why had Alex hung the dreamcatcher above his pillow? “Where is Linc now?”

 

Sara wasn’t quick enough in wiping the smirk off her face before Michael turned around to see it. “He went out. With Alex.”

 

“And Brad?”

 

“Nope,” Sara replied with her lips threatening to pull up into a crafty grin again. “It was just the two of them.”

 

“I fail to see what’s so amusing about this. We still don’t know if we can completely trust Alex, and even if we can, he hasn’t been acting very emotionally stable recently.”

 

“Oh, and Lincoln beating on an informant is emotionally stable?”

 

“Are you taking Alex’s side?” Michael followed her down the stairs, giving Roland a dirty look when he got in his way and didn’t apologize.

 

“No, I just don’t think it’s fair if both of us gang up on him.” Sara headed straight for the telephone in the middle of the conference table, no doubt wanting to call up Self to demand that he supply them with the antibiotics that Sucre was in desperate need of.

 

“Linc has never---.”

 

“Just not in front of you,” Sara cut him off, already having anticipated what his next argument was going to be.

 

“Seriously? When? In Fox River?”

 

“If you want to know more about your brother’s sexual escapades, or his interest in Alex, I think that you’d better ask him directly. I don’t want to get involved.”

 

Michael stood there dumbly as Sara picked up the phone and dialed Self’s number, trying to imagine where his brother had gotten to with Alex. And what they were doing together. Maybe Lincoln pitied Alex and just wanted to take care of him. _That_ Michael could understand… a little… because he had never felt so inclined towards the ex-agent. But Lincoln and Alex together – romantically? Michael couldn’t conjure up an image for that even if he used his imagination.

 

* * *

 

“There’s no way I’m gonna get any sleep with Sucre hacking up his lungs up there.”

 

 _Lincoln!_ Finally someone to talk to! Brad had been going stir crazy around the warehouse and the pier outside for the better part of the day because some asshole had taken the sedan out earlier in the morning and not returned it until a few minutes ago. _Lincoln._ Sometimes that walking freight train of muscles rubbed Brad the wrong way. He would’ve gone with Sara into town to pick up Sucre’s antibiotics but Michael had jumped into the front passenger’s seat of the black SUV first. There was no way that he wanted to sit in the back and play third wheel to those two lovebirds. So he’d stayed close to base all day, trying to keep Roland off of his heels, and remaining out of coughing distance of Sucre.

 

“Where do you intend to sleep then?”

 

 _And Alex. Typical!_ Those two were like fucking Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock, as in joined at the hip. Although Lincoln looked more like a white klingon on speed than a captain of the Enterprise. And Alex’s recent lack of emotional control would have shamed the entire Vulcan race. Well, Brad was dying for some company and a sympathetic ear to listen to him rant about his lousy day, so Lincoln and Alex would just have to do.

 

“Why do we have to sleep here anyway? Just ‘cause Self tells us to? I say we take his mercenary allowance and blow it on a three-star hotel.”

 

Wonderful! Lincoln was having just as bad a day as Brad was. They would have a great time commiserating together. Brad was about to enter the storage area to add his own two cents to Lincoln’s bitching when it suddenly became eerily quiet back there. Not as in uncomfortably quiet, but as in atmosphere-shifting quiet. He hesitated, sensing that something was _off_ , but not quite knowing what. It wasn’t until he heard the wet smacking sound of lips connecting with flesh that his eyebrows shot up to his receding hairline. _No fucking way!_ There was absolutely no way that badass Lincoln Burrows was making out with Alex-fucking-Mahone inside their cool team headquarters.

 

“Linc… not here,” Alex protested, sounding awfully breathless. “I’m not as eager as you to invoke the wrath of your brother.”

 

“Relax, would you? Michael and Sara are out shopping, Roland is looking up porn on his computer, and Brad is on the pier.”

 

 _No. Brad is definitely not on the pier,_ Brad thought to himself. He knew that he really should get the hell out of there before one of them discovered him. What the hell? Why should he be worried about _them_ discovering _him_? He was the one who had walked in on their little secret rendezvous, so if anything, they should be worried, not him. Besides, he was very curious to know what they were doing back there. When it came to his voyeuristic nature, he was not at all picky with what turned him on.

 

Being extremely cautious and quiet, Brad snuck a peak around the corner, catching sight of the back of Lincoln’s broad shoulders hunched over one of the storage shelves. He was leaning onto the shelf with one arm and using the other to hold onto Alex, who he had trapped on top of that shelf. Both of Alex’s arms were wrapped around Lincoln’s neck and… _holy shit_ , they were kissing! Like full, on the mouth, tongue-twisting action. If Brad had known that Alex swung that way, his time in Sona might have been a lot more pleasant. Obviously he’d gone and hit on the wrong inmates, picking up stray dogs when he could’ve gotten himself a stallion. _Well fuck me and my poor judgment!_

 

“Linc,” Alex said firmly between kisses, trying to push the bigger man off. “It’s too dangerous to do this here. We’ll get caught.”

 

“Then help me pay for a room so we can do it someplace else.” Lincoln didn’t seem to be easily deterred because he nuzzled Alex’s neck, kissing him there, and coaxing a low throaty moan out of the slim man beneath him.

 

Brad felt a shiver go up his spine listening to that sound and almost let his hand drift to his pants. Because if they were going to go and do _that_ in the back room, nothing was going to stop him from jerking off to it. And now he knew that the red marks on Alex’s neck were not from an allergic reaction to the generic fabric softener that Self had provided them with, like he’d previously claimed.

 

“Okay!” Alex relented, shoving Lincoln’s teeth away from his throat with both hands. “I’ll go half with you, but it doesn’t mean that you automatically get to do whatever you want.”

 

“How ‘bout I just do whatever _you_ want,” Lincoln said suggestively, snickering when Alex struggled to get down off of the low hanging shelf without catching his pants on the steel edge of it.

 

“Linc, _come on_ ,” Alex pleaded when his good pair of slacks snagged on the sharp edge of the shelf.

 

The devil in Brad found himself hoping that Alex would tear his pants on that shelf so that he would be forced to take them off. He had caught a glimpse of Alex from behind coming out of one of the shower stalls in Sona – once – and _damn_ had that ever been a sight to see! No wonder Lincoln was interested in the ex-agent. With a body like that, he was really something to look at. Deceptively slender but with strong toned arms and a set of long legs to match. Lincoln, on the other hand, Brad was not interested in. He disliked men who had it so easy, getting whatever they wanted with their puffed up muscles and commanding nature. If Alex were a stallion, Lincoln had to be a bulky ox, and Brad had no desire to try and ride an ox.

 

Brad watched Lincoln physically lift Alex down off the shelf and brush off his slacks, waiting for them to do something a lot more intimate. But Alex only leaned up against Lincoln and brushed his lips close to the ex-con’s ear. And suddenly Lincoln lost his playful attitude, his arms tensing up and his fists clenching where they were resting on Alex’s lower back. Maybe they were going to get into some S and M now, which Brad really had nothing against. So long as it involved Alex naked, Brad was really up for viewing anything. But, Alex looked visibly riled up as well… and Lincoln was releasing him to… _Oh shit!_ Realizing that Alex had been alerting Lincoln to the presence of their voyeur, and not whispering perverse promises in his ear, Brad quickly retreated from behind the stack of boxes that he’d been peering around. He took off running in the direction of the pier, hoping to make it outside before Lincoln got a hold of his neck and twisted it off like a spring chicken’s.

 

* * *

 

“I told you I heard something,” Alex said nervously as he followed Lincoln from one room to the next as they searched for the asshole who had been spying on them. If it had been anyone decent, that person would have interrupted them, or left them alone. He knew that it couldn’t have been Michael – _Thank God_ – because fleeing the scene of the crime like a coward was not something that the brains behind two prison breaks was capable of.

 

“Yeah, well you told me a little bit too late,” Lincoln growled at Alex’s side, yanking open the doors of the parked sedan to see if anyone was hiding inside it.

 

“There’s nothing we can do about it now. Maybe we should just--.”

 

“Like hell I’m gonna let some piece-of-shit pervert spy on what we were doing and get away with it!” Now Lincoln was practically fuming he was so pissed off. “Do _you_ enjoy people watching you?”

 

 _Do I enjoy--?_ Alex felt his face and neck flood with heat as he considered what Lincoln had just asked. What kind of offensive question was that?! Of course he didn’t want anyone getting off on watching him with Lincoln, or with anyone else for that matter. He just didn’t feel comfortable with anyone watching him – _period!_ It made him feel jittery and violated, and he hated both of those feelings.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lincoln said knowingly as he stormed to the back door and flung it open. “Son-of-a-bitch,” he spat as he caught sight of something – or someone – and charged down the pier like a furious bull that had just had its tail pulled.

 

Hurrying to keep up with Lincoln, Alex spotted the lone figure down by the waterside, smoking a rolled up tube that looked more marijuana than tobacco. Even from a distance, Alex could tell that the tech geek was grinning like an idiot and chuckling about something. Seeing those smug dark eyes dancing with amusement really incited Alex’s temper, causing it to flare up to nearly equal Lincoln’s in intensity.

 

“You stupid little _freak_ ,” Lincoln rumbled as he neared Roland, wrenched him close by the collar of his polo shirt, and shook him like a fish on a hook. “You think that’s funny, do you?”

 

“Huh? Wha--?” At first Roland looked startled, but then he just laughed, puffing at his roll of marijuana again and looking pleased with himself. “Kind of. Yeah! Don’t you?” He was so high he probably didn’t even know what Lincoln was talking about.

 

“No, I don’t,” Lincoln bit back, tightening his hold and beginning to lift Roland off of his feet. “I don’t think that some sicko spying on me making out with my boyfriend is even remotely funny.”

 

“B—boyfriend? Huh?” Roland laughed again, but this time he didn’t seem to be genuinely amused.

 

Alex just stood there, keeping his distance because he knew how unreasonable Lincoln could become when he was angry. It was actually kind of sweet how Lincoln was doing this to protect his honor, or something incredibly backwards like that. Anyway, it wasn’t like there was any love lost between either of them and Roland. That kid was pond scum, no matter what angle you looked at him from. And it hadn’t been that long ago when Alex had been the one winding up to throttle him.

 

“You’re lucky that all Alex and I were doing was kissing, otherwise I’d rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat for invading our privacy.”

 

Suddenly Roland squinted at Lincoln, and then at Alex who was standing behind him, and made a disgusted face. “Man, that’s _sick_! You two _fags_ were _kissing?!_ Fucking Mr. Personality and the Brainless Bull together in a room? I think I’m gonna kill myself just for hearing about this.”

 

Lincoln cinched Roland’s throat in a chokehold, beginning to strangle him for his bigoted comments. “I should’ve done this a long time ago,” Lincoln said in satisfaction, enjoying the blue tinge that Roland’s face began to take on as he flailed about helplessly.

 

“Linc, I’m not so sure that Michael will be happy if you kill him,” Alex said worriedly. Did he want Roland dead? Absolutely! Did he want their plans to take down the Company to fail because they’d lost their only hacker? Not really. And he wouldn’t be too keen to face Michael after their leader discovered that they’d snuffed out a member of the team without permission. But there was something inexplicably attractive about Lincoln exercising his superior power over Roland that Alex made no effort to stop him.

 

“This fucker called me a _fag_!” Lincoln snarled.

 

“I think that he referred to both of us with the same derogatory word,” Alex informed Lincoln, feeling too uncomfortable to say that word out loud. He was still trying to get used to the fact that he was now in a relationship with a man and could no longer categorize himself as being _straight_ , so being called a _fag_ had been pretty upsetting. His ears felt like they were still burning from it. If anything, he found that the term _bisexual_ was preferable to any of the slang that Roland’s filthy mouth could come up with. Or better yet, why not avoid labels altogether? Why did everything have to be one way or the other? A little ambiguousness never hurt anybody.

 

Although Alex felt that Lincoln should have practiced more restraint while in a communal area of the building, he had been enjoying the intimacy between them. Lincoln could be very convincing when he wanted to be affectionate and Alex was quite fond of that soft side of the ex-con. But to have Roland come along and destroy their private time together like that… Maybe he should just walk away and let Lincoln kill the bastard. Pretend not to have seen or heard anything, because Alex was pretty good at feigning ignorance and keeping secrets.

 

“Damn it!” Roland gasped as his fingers dug into Lincoln’s arms, trying to get him to let go. His toes were dragging along the ground as he frantically kicked his legs, trying to throw Lincoln’s balance off. “You wanna be gay? Fine! Be gay! Just don’t kill me,” he begged, revealing himself to be the sniveling weakling that he was.

 

Alex closed his eyes tightly and pressed his thumb and middle finger against his eyelids, sighing in aggravation. Why had Self hand-picked such a failure of a man to aid them in their mission? At the first sign of trouble, Roland would either flee in the opposite direction or double-cross them. Alex didn’t need to see anymore to know that Roland was a lost cause. “Linc, this is giving me a headache. I’m going back inside to count the money in my wallet.”

 

“For the hotel, right?”

 

“Yes, for the hotel,” Alex said tiredly, turning around and making his way back to the warehouse. He didn’t look back when he heard a body thump onto the wooden planks of the pier, nor did he flinch when he was tugged into Lincoln’s arms as the bigger man came up alongside him. “If Roland knows, you can be sure that Michael will soon find out,” he warned Lincoln. He wasn’t sure how Michael would react to finding out that the two of them were romantically involved with each other. Especially because it didn’t seem like Michael trusted him, or _liked_ him, most of the time.

 

“You let me handle Michael. The only thing you need to worry about is getting your ass into the car so we can get the hell out of here.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

 _So much for Michael interrogating Lincoln tonight,_ Sara thought humorously as she threw the SUV into park, doing her best to not draw attention to the empty spot beside it. The sedan was gone – again – and she had a pretty good guess who was behind the wheel of it.

 

“Is he for real?” Michael griped, getting out and slamming the door.

 

“Is who for real?” Sara asked calmly, pretending that she didn’t know exactly who Michael was talking about.

 

Michael threw her a warning look and reached for the cell phone in his back pocket. “When I called Brad thirty minutes ago, he said that Linc was still here. _With_ the car. But before I can get back, he takes off again.”

 

“Maybe he had an errand to run…” But most likely not. Sara had begun to suspect Lincoln and Alex were hooking up with each other when they’d begun to monopolize that sedan that was on loan from Self. They’d been out together every day for the past week, and if things were heating up as fast as she imagined they were, she doubted that either of them would bother calling in or returning until the morning.

 

“Damn it, Sara. Can you at least act like you’re concerned. This is my brother you’re joking about.”

 

 _Men. Always so melodramatic._ Sara shrugged and took her drugstore bag full of prescription drugs that Sucre was sorely in need of up to the men’s camping grounds. Although she’d been with a number of men in the past, with quite a few drug addicts in the mix, she had never fraternized with a group of them in a sleepover-type setup before. She was literally surrounded by men. In the morning she had to hang a towel on the handle of the public restroom downstairs so that none of the men would walk in on her in the shower. Or if she wanted more privacy than a cubicle provided her with when she was not showering. Needless to say, she found herself hanging that towel out there several times a day. And then there was the crotch scratching. The first few days had been pretty tense as the members of the team were getting used to their new surroundings, and housemates. But after those few days had passed, the adjustment period had evidently been over, and with it most of the pretentious gentlemanly manners. Brad now went so far as to shove his hand down his pants to scratch, and Sucre sometimes exited the restroom in his underwear. No, not only Sucre. Sara had caught Lincoln at it a few times as well. And Roland masturbated on the sofa when he thought no one was around.

 

Sara shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms briskly to get that gross image out of her mind. The only two who were decent and knew how to act in front of a lady were Michael and Alex. Well, maybe only Alex, because what Sara did with Michael at night probably wouldn’t pass off as anything decent.

 

Then there was the questionable lack of hygiene in the building. Garbage that needed to be thrown away. Rotten food hiding in nooks and crannies where someone had stashed it, or forgotten about it. Unwashed clothes in the communal eating area, toenail clippings on the floor of the restroom… and the list went on. At least Fox River had had rules and regulations that prevented things from becoming so gross and offensive.

 

“Sara, have you got me my drugs?” Sucre coughed as he caught sight of her, sounding like he was on death’s door. He looked it too. He usually had a nice dark tanned skin tone, but now he looked overheated and red.

 

“Yes, I do. I would’ve had them sooner but Self was a bit slow with activating my fake health insurance card.” Opening the paper bag, Sara fished out one antibiotic, one expectorant, and one cough suppressant. “These little babies are surprisingly expensive without health insurance.” She retrieved Sucre’s glass of water from his second shelf and passed him the medicine along with it. “You’d be better off taking these after a meal, but…”

 

“Nobody wants me throwing up on the floor again,” Sucre said wryly. “I get it.” He swallowed down the pills and finished off the water, then lay back to rest. “I feel like shit.”

 

“You’ll feel better soon enough.” Sara was about to leave so that Sucre could go back to sleep, but he seemed to have other plans.

 

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

 

“Sure! What do you need?”

 

“No, I don’t need nothing. I was just wondering if you _knew_ about… you know?”

 

Laughing at Sucre’s mysterious attitude, Sara sat down on the edge of Alex’s bed so that she would be closer to his eye level. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. What should I know about?”

 

“I dunno if I should say anything if you don’t know. Linc will kill me.”

 

“Does this have anything to do with Alex?” She asked carefully.

 

“So you do know,” Sucre exclaimed, sounding relieved. “Man, I thought that I was gonna have to keep this to myself.”

 

“You might still want to do that because I don’t think that Brad or Roland know about it, and Michael isn’t ready to discuss it. When did you find out about the two of them?” When Sucre grinned like a Cheshire cat, Sara couldn’t help but grin along with him. “What?”

 

“I’ve known for _weeks_ ,” Sucre bragged. “In the middle of the night, when everyone else is asleep, Linc always goes to Alex’s bed. Thinks I don’t know about it, but I do. I don’t sleep as good as I used to. Not since Fox River and Sona. Anyway, on most nights Alex doesn’t wake up. But ever since last week, he’s been staying awake and waiting for Linc to come to him. And then _bang!”_ Sucre punched his right fist into his left hand, looking super excited with his storytelling skills. “They go outside together and don’t come back for a long time.”

 

“Oh…” That had been a bit more information than she’d been anticipating. They obviously weren’t giving Sucre’s loyal character enough credit if he’d been holding onto this secret for weeks. She was also impressed with how discretely Lincoln and Alex had been handling their clandestine meetings. She hadn’t been aware of them, and Michael hadn’t suspected a thing, at least not until they’d had that conversation about the dreamcatcher. She had suspected that Lincoln had a thing for Alex for a while though. It was impossible to misinterpret the looks Michael’s brash sibling had been giving the jumpy ex-FBI agent, or the way he’d started to follow him around like a second shadow. But while she might think that Lincoln’s behavior was sweet and cute, Michael’s interpretation was another story.

 

“They went to a hotel together tonight,” Sucre continued, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper and coughing between words.

 

So much for keeping a secret! It looked like once the plug was pulled on Sucre’s unlimited tank of information, anything and everything would come pouring out of him. “Did they?” Sara asked, her curiosity piqued.

 

“Tonight’s _the_ night!”

 

“The night for what?”

 

Both Sara and Sucre looked up to find Michael standing there, his normally composed features scrunched up with disapproval.

 

“Papi! How nice of you to visit me,” Sucre quickly changed the subject, probably fearing that he was going to go to hell for gossiping about his teammates. In fact, Sucre spent a lot of time worrying that he was going to go to hell for one thing or another. It was just one of the downsides of being devoutly religious.

 

“Sucre, talk!” Michael ordered, ignoring Sara when she tried to lead him back out of the room.

 

“Michael, come on. Lincoln doesn’t try to control your life, maybe it’s about time you stopped trying to control his.” Sara waited anxiously, watching Sucre sweat under the pressure, and Michael twitch with unresolved aggression. He rarely got physical when he was in one of those moods, instead choosing to berate his opponents verbally and make them feel stupid. Not that he wasn’t capable of some pretty extreme violence if he put his mind to it. Unbidden, the memory of Michael smashing his knuckles against the concrete wall of Fox River’s solitary confinement holding cell until he had painted it red came to mind. But the one thing that Michael was not capable of was hurting the people he cared about. And one of the people who Michael cared about the most just so happened to be his big brother. “If Lincoln is happy with Alex, maybe you should just let the two of them be. If you try to interfere and screw things up for him, he may never forgive you.”

 

“Yeah, like she said,” Sucre meekly agreed.

 

For a moment Michael lingered there looking undecided. Then he looked back at the dreamcatcher, his expression softening as he began to realize how much Alex must mean to Lincoln. “Fine. But I’m not going to be the one to explain to Self why the gas tank on the sedan needs to be filled up again.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you want a room overlooking the highway or a room overlooking the pool?” Lincoln asked neutrally as he sent the sedan sailing through another yellow light, trying not to appear too overenthusiastic over the concept of sharing a room – and a bed – with Alex for the night. He hadn’t wanted to push things because Alex hadn’t indicated just how far he was willing to go. But now they were off in search of a hotel room that they could afford with their meager budget and Lincoln was just about bursting with sexual tension. Surely Alex had to know what sharing a hotel room implied?

 

“I’m going to assume that you’re referring to the Travelodge Hotel because you’re headed in that general direction. Before you waste anymore gas, I think that you’d better turn around and look for something that isn’t anywhere near the highway, or the shopping district, or a major intersection. We might actually find something we can afford that way.”

 

“ _Smartass_ ,” Lincoln muttered under his breath, pulling a U-Turn in the middle of the street, and returning the same way they had come. Trust a former FBI agent to know where all the major hotels were in the city, and how much they cost. That’s what Alex had been up to during his first few days of arriving in L.A., going through city maps and memorizing all the major landmarks, highways, and police stations. The first two had been for convenience, the last to avoid being thrown back in jail. While at times Alex’s unlimited knowledge could be annoying, Lincoln secretly thought that it only added to the ex-agent’s sex appeal. Not only was Alex super hot to look at, but he also had one hell of a brain to go along with his good looks. In the beginning, Lincoln had only found Alex to be moderately attractive, but the more he got to know him, and the more time he spent with him, the higher his rating for the slim, brown haired, blue eyed man went. And the lower his inhibitions and sense of restraint dropped. If Alex only intended to talk and _snuggle_ at the hotel, Lincoln was going to wake up a sexually repressed mess in the morning. “What _can_ we afford?”

 

“Two stars.” Alex leaned back in the passenger’s seat and temporarily closed his eyes, all the driving apparently making him feel sleepy.

 

 _Fuck that! Two stars!_ If that useless jackass Self had unfrozen their assets, they would have had a lot more money to play with. But the whole lot of them were supposed to be in the United States Penitentiary, Administrative Maximum Facility – an American federal supermax prison exclusively for the worst of the worst male prisoners.   And inmates who were confined to such hellish living accommodations weren’t allowed access to their financial wealth. “Best Western?”

 

“That’s two-and-a-half stars. Maybe the Howard Johnson. But don’t expect them to have a continental breakfast.”

 

“What kind of shitty hotel doesn’t offer a continental breakfast?!”

 

“The kind that costs less than $70 a night.”

 

“You said that we had $90,” Lincoln smugly reminded Alex, getting ready to gloat about his boyfriend’s calculating error.

 

“I did. And then I subtracted $20 to account for the dinner that we’re obviously going to have to pick up before we check into the hotel.”

 

 _Damn it!_ So much for trying to trip Alex up. He was always one step ahead of everybody else, much like Michael. Although Michael and Alex tended to have different methods and ways of approaching a situation, the two of them usually ended up at the same destination. But that’s where the similarities ended. Michael was always so level-headed and in control of himself, whereas Alex was prone to emotional outbursts and took things too personally. Michael put a great deal of work into his plans, detailing them from start to finish. But Alex often came up with his plans on the fly, adjusting them as he went along. Michael liked to believe that he didn’t need anybody to rely on, while Alex seemed lost without some form of support. Lincoln admired and respected Michael for all that he had accomplished, and for the sacrifices he had made for breaking him out of jail. However, when it came to needing someone to protect and care for, Alex was the one whom Lincoln felt the most drawn to. And it certainly didn’t hurt that he enjoyed fantasizing about what Alex would be like under the sheets.  

 

“Linc!”

 

“Huh? What?!” Lincoln glanced over at Alex in concern, shaking himself out of his reverie.

 

“If that truck gets any closer it’ll be in the backseat,” Alex warned.

 

 _What truck?_ “Son-of-a-bitch,” Lincoln cursed, accelerating when he spotted the truck in the rearview mirror. It was so close that he couldn’t even see a license plate. The truck was an off-white color and all scratched up, but had tinted windows so Lincoln couldn’t see who was driving the piece of crap. To piss him off even more, a few seconds after he had accelerated and tried to pull away from the truck, it also sped up, remaining close enough to conceal its license plate and make Lincoln just a bit antsy. “You got your seatbelt on properly?”

 

“Yes.” Alex grabbed onto the door handle anyway, anticipating that Lincoln’s driving was going to get really rough on the next side street.

 

Lincoln floored it and whipped the sedan around the next corner, without bothering to signal first, and put his street racing skills to good use on the next street. He wove in and out of traffic, trying to keep a few cars distance between them and the white truck, swearing again when it began to gain on them. “That motherfucker Self should have given us guns,” he grumbled, before swerving hard to the right to avoid smashing into a pink Cadillac that had pulled into the intersection up ahead. Visibility was no hell on a crappy old street in a major state of disrepair after seven o’clock at night. Where were the streetlights?

 

“Linc, you’re heading towards the railway yard. You should try to change directions at the next side street.”

 

“I can’t! He’s too close!”

 

“Well, this is a dead-end street and we’re running out of pavement, so you’d better turn off somewhere.”

 

Alex sounded panicked, and he was clutching the door handle tighter, but there was really nothing Lincoln could do about it. There weren’t any other streets visible in the poor lighting of the industrial district that he had driven into, and the street was conveniently passerby-free, meaning that no one would call the cops if the driver of the truck decided to open fire on them. They were also closed off from any street that may have been parallel to them by the rows of old brick factories on either side of the road. There weren’t any gaps or paths between them because they had been built practically one on top of the other without any breathing space to separate them. “I can pull a U-turn,” Lincoln offered, trying to sound unconcerned so that Alex would remain calm. But really, the street was too narrow for him to be able to pull off a U-turn before the truck could catch up to them.

 

“You’ll never make it!” Nothing got by Alex.

 

They were coming up on the high fence that separated the railway yard from the road with nowhere left to turn, and Lincoln was running out of options. He glanced in the rearview mirror again to check on the truck… and felt a surge of adrenalin charge through him. “Hold on!” He threw his arm out in front of Alex, forcing him back against his seat, and grabbed the steering wheel hard with his left hand. Then he prayed that that bastard Self had gotten them a car with airbags installed in it.

 

The truck came up alongside them at an angle and smashed into the back end of the passenger’s side, sending the sedan flying into a tailspin. Lincoln fought for control of the wheel with the one hand, while preventing Alex from hitting his head on the windshield with the other. Not giving them the chance to recover, the truck rammed them again. This time, the force of the impact was enough to send the sedan careening off the road to crash headfirst into the back of one of those old brick factories. Lincoln’s ears filled with the sound of metal shredding and brickwork crumbling as he was flung forward and into the steering wheel. Alex didn’t fare much better than him, coming very close to cracking his forehead on the windshield before the combined power of Lincoln’s muscular arm and the hesitant seatbelt yanked him back again. On neither the driver’s side nor the passenger’s side did the airbags deploy.

 

“Fucker Self got us a refurbished piece of shit.” Lincoln groaned and pushed himself off of the steering wheel, his chest feeling like someone had dropped a set of barbells onto it. It took a few seconds for his vision to clear, and he could smell smoke, but his first instinct was to check on Alex. “Alex… are you okay?”

 

“I think so…” But Alex didn’t sound so sure and his voice was shaky. It wasn’t until Lincoln got a good look at the inside of the car that he understood why. The entire front end of the car was smashed inwards, with the dashboard having come awfully close to crushing Alex’s legs.

 

“Are you hurt?” Lincoln demanded to know as he yanked off his seatbelt, before leaning over to get Alex’s off. There was a long diagonal welt along Alex’s neck where the seatbelt had cut into his flesh with bruising force, but he seemed otherwise intact.

 

“No, I’m okay,” Alex reassured Lincoln, turning stiffly to him to give him the same cautious appraisal. “How about you?”

 

“Nothing’s broken,” Lincoln replied angrily. “I’m gonna kill that fucker as soon as he steps out of his truck. But before that, you’re gonna get through that fence and find someplace safe to lay low until I finish with him.”

 

“Linc, there’s no way I’m going to leave you here by yourself against an armed man,” Alex argued in a slightly raised voice. “Because we both know that he’s Company, and they never go anywhere unarmed. And that’s assuming that there’s only one man, and not two.”

 

“I’m not having this argument with you,” Lincoln insisted, flinging open the driver’s side door as he heard the truck driver do the same.

 

“Then stop acting like a macho imbecile and listen to me. Either we both go through that fence, or neither of us do. It’s your choice.”

 

Of all the times that Alex could have chosen to be assertive, why did it have to be now? Alex wasn’t even thinking clearly if he believed that they’d both make it through that fence before one of them got shot in the back. Any one of Lincoln’s previous partners would have taken the opportunity to escape and seek shelter, but as it turned out, Alex liked to repay loyalty with loyalty. Although Alex’s sentimentality was touching, the fact that he was making it harder for Lincoln to protect him was not. _Damn fool!_ “Fine! Get out and run already!”

 

Lincoln pushed Alex out of the passenger’s side door, before climbing over the center console to follow him out, keeping low. He saw the flash of movement in his peripheral vision before he heard the bullets begin to eat holes in the body of the sedan, blasting through the rear windshield, puncturing both headrests, and tearing up the car’s interior. When Alex temporarily fell onto his hands and knees by the wall of the building, blinking rapidly in the attempt to see straight, Lincoln automatically grabbed him with both arms and held him steady. The man with the gun was now on the other side of the car, pumping the inside full of bullets, as it was too dark to see exactly where the driver and passenger had gotten to in the combination of billowing smoke and the darkened shadow that the building cast onto the street. If Alex was disoriented and suffering from whiplash, he would never make it into the train yards unassisted, so Lincoln had no choice but to give up the urge to attack their assailant in favor of seeing his boyfriend to safety. Thanks to the open driver’s side door, the gunman would be momentarily distracted searching for them in the opposite direction. That ought to buy them sufficient time to get into the open air museum for prehistoric steam locomotives, and to safety.

 

“C’mon! Move,” Lincoln hissed quietly, half supporting Alex as he moved forward quickly, sticking to the shadows in his stealthy progression to the gap in the chain link fence. When Alex stumbled, Lincoln swore before he could censor himself.

 

“I can’t see,” Alex apologized, making more of an effort to find his footing on the uneven gravel beneath his feet.

 

Of course he couldn’t see. The whole area was like one big fuzzy black hole, making it difficult for even Lincoln to make out what was in front of him, never mind Alex who was far-sighted and had reduced night vision thanks to the years he had spent abusing his eyesight in all sorts of poor lighting conditions. The only benefit of their current murky environment was that the gunman couldn’t see them either, not unless he decided to pull out a flashlight. And that would be stupid because it would make him an easy target. But judging by the rough way that the gravel was being kicked up behind them, he had not given up pursuit. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Lincoln said warmly, grabbing hold of the edge of the loosely chained gate and wrenching it open as wide as he could. When it came to chains, there was no point in trying to be quiet because nothing could mask the jangling noise that those things made. “Get through.” He gave Alex a mild push in the general direction of the gap that he’d created, breathing a sigh of relief when the ex-agent made it through to the other side. Lincoln squeezed through after him, his more substantial frame rubbing up against rusty sharp ends of wire that ripped his t-shirt and gouged him in the right thigh. To his credit, he kept all his swearing internal, not making a sound until he was by Alex’s side again. And that’s when the bullets began to rain down on them.

 

The gravel burst into tiny pieces of shrapnel to their left and directly behind them as the gunman aimed in their general direction, hoping to get lucky. Alex raised his arm to protect his face from the spray of fragmented projectiles, while Lincoln grabbed the ex-agent and yanked him away from the onslaught. If they could make it to the rows of slumbering steam trains, they would have a better chance of hiding inside one of them and maybe waiting the gunman out. There was minimal overhead lighting in that general vicinity, giving them something to aim for, but not making it too easy to see.

 

Lincoln slunk from one shadow to the next, keeping stacks of empty crates and miscellaneous pieces of equipment between them and the gunman. Alex moved just as stealthily and quietly, although relying on Lincoln to keep him headed in the safest direction. The heavy scrunch of gravel and dirt underneath a pair of leather soled shoes began to gain on them by the time they reached the hulking shape of the first locomotive. “Stay here,” Lincoln whispered, leaving Alex hiding behind a tall electrical junction box, as he rushed over to the time-forgotten train. He climbed up onto the first abandoned freight car, grabbed hold of the door latch and pulled. But it wouldn’t give. Hopping down again, he went over to the second car, finding it wide open. Closing that rusty door would create too much noise, so hiding inside was out of the question.

 

“Lincoln Burrows,” a polite masculine voice called out from behind, followed by the distinct _click_ of a gun being cocked. “You made this far too easy for me. What do you think gave you away first? All that noise you were making, or your blaringly obvious white t-shirt contrasting against the black of the night sky.”

 

Lincoln turned around to face the well dressed Company agent who was aiming a black Beretta 92FS at his head. “I don’t give a shit. Take your pick,” Lincoln said in a bored tone, keeping his gaze leveled on the tall thin man with the crooked teeth and the comb-over hairstyle.

 

“Come down from there – _slowly_ ,” the agent cautioned, tracking Lincoln’s descent down the steel ladder with the sight of his gun. “Where is your partner?”

 

“Who?” Lincoln asked dumbly, casually surveying his environment for something that he could use as a weapon.

 

“Keep your hands away from your sides!” The agent commanded, refusing to let his guard down. “And stop pretending to be dumber than you look. Where is Alexander Mahone?”

 

“No idea,” Lincoln said with an exaggerated shrug.

 

“Listen up, you brainless piece of muscle, either you get Mahone out here to join you, or I put a few bullets in that hollow head of yours. Got it?”

 

“Then I guess you’d better make sure you get me on the first shot, because if you don’t, I’m gonna come after you and snap your neck,” Lincoln threatened. The Company could threaten, torture, and come within an inch of killing him and he still wouldn’t give Alex up. He hoped that Alex had had the common sense to make a break for it during the commotion. Because the absolute last thing that Lincoln wanted to have to deal with was Alex being dragged out in front of him to be tortured. He would sacrifice himself first before he allowed that to happen.  

 

“Then I guess that I’d better not miss,” the agent said with a dark laugh as he prepared to pull the trigger.

 

What happened next happened so fast that even Lincoln wasn’t sure how it went down. One minute he was on the verge of being plugged full of bullets, and the next his adversary was being introduced to a world of pain. Lincoln could barely focus on the blur of movement as Alex flew out of the shadows to grab the agent by the arm that was wielding the gun. Alex clenched the agent’s wrist tightly with his right hand, yanking him out of position, and smashed the agent’s forearm with his left elbow, causing him to drop the gun. Before the agent even had time to voice his agony, Alex was wrenching the man’s arm up and back at a harsh angle, pulling hard until even Lincoln heard the popping sound of a ball joint being torn from a shoulder socket. Lincoln just stood there in awe as his lithe wildcat of a boyfriend dismantled the agent in cold, calculating efficiency. The man’s garbled cries of pain were silenced the moment that Alex slammed his elbow back into the agent’s throat, inflicting maximum damage in the blink of an eye. But Alex wasn’t finished. Yanking the agent by his slimy comb-over, he kicked the back of the man’s calves one by one with the heel of his shoe, bringing him crashing to his knees. Only after Alex had smashed the man’s face into the gravel did he let up, straightening up a bit to inspect his handiwork.

 

“ _Holy shit_ are you ever the sexiest wildcat,” Lincoln praised, feeling damn proud to have snagged himself such a formidable partner and ally.

 

Alex gazed over at Lincoln with his shoulders heaving as he tried to regain control of his breathing. “What did you just call me?” He asked in confusion.

 

“Never mind.” Maybe it was a bit too early for pet names. Lincoln bent down to pick up the gun… and swallowed hard when he heard Alex gasp with pain. He didn’t have to look up to know that there had been a second assailant and Alex’s life was now in danger.

 

“Leave the gun where it is, unless you want me to render your little love interest mute for life,” the second agent warned.

 

Lincoln slowly raised his eyes from the gun to observe Alex being held from behind by a nondescript man in a similar dark suit as the first one. The agent had the barrel of a Springfield Armory Mil-Spec M1911-A1 jammed up against Alex’s throat, with his finger dancing eagerly on the trigger. Not only was Alex locked in an impenetrable grip, but he was also being used as a human shield. If Lincoln so much as twitched, Alex’s life would be forfeit.

 

“You wanted my attention, you’ve got it.” As hard as he tried, he could not keep the fury out of his voice. How could he? This scumbag was holding his boyfriend at gunpoint and he was helpless to do anything about it. He had nothing to bargain with.

 

When Alex struggled, the agent forced the barrel in tighter, causing Alex to choke. “Didn’t think that you’d be the type to allow yourself to become emotionally compromised,” the agent taunted, watching Lincoln’s expression darken as he forced Alex to endure more vicious bruising along the welt that the seatbelt had left behind. “But I’ll bet you’d be willing to sell out your own brother to get your precious lover released, wouldn’t you? He is your lover, isn’t he? That’s why the two of you have been sneaking around town together, to keep your love affair secret from your covert group of losers.”

 

“Whatever. If it’s me you’re after, just tell me what the fuck you want and leave him the hell alone!” This man was _dead!_ He had driven the nails into his own coffin the second he had accosted Alex with that gun. One way or another, Lincoln was going to see to it that he got buried in it – in a million pieces. He tried to get Alex’s deep blue eyes to focus on him, to offer him some reassurance, but Alex’s eyes were shut tightly in pain.

 

“I want what the Company has always wanted, your brother Michael. Give us Michael and I won’t have to traumatize you with what a bullet from one of these babies can do to a man’s throat.”

 

“Okay. Let him go and I’ll call my brother.” And have Michael come down and figure a way out of this that would end with one more dead Company agent.

 

The agent laughed abruptly at Lincoln’s willingness to cooperate. “Do you really think I’d believe that you would give up your own brother to save prettyboy here?” Showing that he was not bluffing, he pulled the barrel of the gun away from Alex’s throat to force it into his mouth instead.

 

“NO! STOP! _Please!”_ Lincoln begged, suddenly realizing how the situation was completely out of his control.

 

“You’d better open your mouth before I smash in your teeth,” the agent threatened Alex as he shoved the barrel in as far as he could before Alex began to choke harder and panic, tears of hysteria beginning to fill his eyes and trickle down his cheeks as the magnitude of his predicament began to sink in.

 

“That’s not necessary,” Lincoln floundered for something to say to calm the gunman down, to get him to back off. “I’ll cooperate. Michael will cooperate. Nobody has to get hurt.” His words and eyes were now filled with a desperation that he couldn’t contain. He knew that he needed to keep his emotions neutral and his thoughts clear in order to help Alex, but all he kept seeing was the hard cold metal in his boyfriend’s mouth.

 

“But the thing is, there’s one small problem, Lincoln. Michael we need for his brains. You might be useful for your brawn. But Alex here? A disgraced former FBI Agent in ruins over the death of his son? The Company has no use for a broken tool like Alex, regardless of how keen his mind may have once been.”

 

“Come on, man,” Lincoln pleaded, on the verge of dashing forward to save Alex, but holding himself back because it was exactly that type of action that would end up getting him killed. “You said you wanted Michael’s cooperation… Do you really think you’re going to get it if you kill the person most important to me? Do you really think that I’ll let you live if you do?” It was impossible not to phrase that as a threat because he meant it with every fiber of his being. If any harm came to Alex, he would tear this man apart, piece by piece.

 

“Maybe I lied. Maybe we only want you to suffer. If you think you can take me on, I dare you to go ahead and try. Right after I kill your lover.”

 

“NO! DON’T!” Lincoln sprang forward, knowing it was humanly impossible for him to prevent what the agent was about to do, but needing to try anyway. His time with Alex up until now had been too short. There were still things that he wanted to tell him, things he wanted to do with him. He couldn’t lose another person he cared about. Not again. Not like this.

 

But the agent’s finger squeezed the trigger and Alex made a pitiful noise like a frightened animal about to be executed, and Lincoln knew that it was all over. Except… the gun did not go off. Blessedly, the gun had jammed after the multiple rounds that had been fired had clogged it with carbon and copper fouling, and gun powder, among other things. But Alex was now living on borrowed time as the agent would not release him and began to try to unjam the gun to fire again. Thanking the 1911 for its very tight rail for slide fitting, which resulted in more jams than most other models, Lincoln covered the distance between them at breakneck speed and let loose the demon inside him. Seizing the agent’s gun hand, Lincoln snapped both his ulna and radius by crushing the two bones together with debilitating force. He then clawed at the agent’s eyes, gouging them with his thumbs and causing the man to scream in horror. Lincoln then pulled Alex away from the agent and into his arms, allowing the agent a few seconds to futilely try to escape with his broken arm and injured eyes.

 

“Stay very still,” Lincoln said firmly to Alex, gently removing the barrel of the gun from his boyfriend’s mouth and feeling him trembling like a terrified wreck against his chest. “You’re okay now,” he said soothingly, stroking his hand down the length of Alex’s back. “You’re safe.” He embraced Alex tightly, worrying that his own heart was going to pulverize his ribcage for how hard it was hammering against it. He wanted to continue to comfort Alex but there was one thing he had to get over with first. Releasing Alex, he expertly unjammed the 1911 and pressed it into Alex’s hands. “Wait for me. This’ll just take a second.”

 

“Linc,” Alex coughed dryly, grabbing for Lincoln’s arm.

 

“I think there were only two of them. You’ll be alright,” Lincoln reassured him. “Just don’t let your guard down.” Having said that, he stormed after the Company agent who was weaving blindly through the rail yard, searching for a way out. Grabbing the man easily by his collar, Lincoln flung him onto the ground and stomped on his foot, breaking his ankle on an angle. When the man howled in pain, Lincoln merely glared coldly at him. “I owe you for what you did back there. For hurting Alex and for making me look weak in front of him. It’s never gonna happen again. Do you know why?” Not giving the agent a chance to answer, Lincoln produced the Beretta for him to get a good look at. “Because I’m gonna blow your brains out of the back of your head.”

 

“No no _nooo_ ,” the man cried, raising his arms in defense. “I only do what I get paid to do. It was nothing personal.”

 

“You hurt someone I care about and think that it’s nothing personal?!” Lincoln rammed the barrel of the gun into the man’s mouth, mindless of the teeth that he chipped and cracked in the process. “Let me show you just how _personal_ that was for me.” And then he pulled the trigger.


	4. Chapter 4

Less than two hours later, Lincoln sat beside Alex at their quaint mid-century oak kitchenette, sharing a wide assortment of food with him that neither of them were interested in eating. They’d ordered out from the restaurant downstairs, picking random things like lobster rolls, steak tartare, half a roasted chicken, Scottish salmon, rigatoni Bolognese, and a handful of sides like roasted heirloom carrots, hand cut Kennebec fries, and parmesan grits. Basically whatever they could get to eat with over $500 in cash, because that’s how much they’d had left over after paying for their balcony suite in advance at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. They’d come up with well over $1600 in cash after going through the pockets and wallets of the Company agents who had tried to assassinate them. Rather than leave the money on the bodies, or return to base – because neither of them were in the mood to rejoin the others – they had opted to just blow it all on the nicest hotel that they could find.

 

Getting to the hotel hadn’t been without complications. For one thing, after Lincoln had finished airing out the agent’s skull, he’d returned to Alex to find him hunched over on his knees, trembling uncontrollably, and making horrible wheezing sounds. At first Lincoln hadn’t known what was wrong, incorrectly assuming that his boyfriend was having some sort of asthma attack. So he’d immediately called Sara and hastily explained the situation, asking her if he should call an ambulance. She had calmly told him that given Alex’s history with anxiety and the particular drug that he’d been misusing, he was probably suffering from a panic attack. Then she’d given Lincoln explicit instructions on how to deal with it. After having had the barrel of a gun shoved into his mouth, it was no wonder that Alex had derailed immediately afterwards.

 

Lincoln had spent twenty to thirty minutes loosely holding Alex and speaking calmly to him. Ensuring him that he was going to be alright, that he just had to remember to _breathe,_ and keeping breathing until it passed. He had kept telling Alex that the man who had committed that vile act was dead, so Alex would never be threatened like that again. At least not on Lincoln’s watch. Alex would be safe so long as Lincoln was around because he’d promised as much. Afterwards, Alex was left shivery and completely drained, needing a lot of assistance to get back onto his feet and down the street, where Lincoln was able to flag down a taxi.

 

Another problem that they’d had was checking in at the luxurious hotel that the taxi driver had recommended. Something about their scruffy and disheveled appearances had screamed _call the cops!_ to the gentleman at the front desk. It had taken a lengthy bit of acting and bullshitting to talk the anally retentive man out of alerting the authorities to their unwelcome presence in a place of such high prestige. Lincoln had no trouble lying through his teeth on any regular occasion, especially if it meant saving his ass from getting thrown into jail, but he’d worried that Alex’s skills at deception might not have been equal to his own. Alex had quickly set him straight with that sob story that he’d spun to the man at the front desk about being held at gunpoint and mugged in the park. A fraction of the details had actually been true, which had made Alex’s story all the more believable. Plus, his hands had still been trembling, and his eyes still red, which had lent credibility to his story. As for the large amount of cash… Lincoln had explained that he’d been carrying all their cash in a money pouch inside his shirt because they were travelers from out of town and that’s what the travel agency had advised him to do. So, they were without credit cards, but had enough cash to cover all their expenses in the hotel for their _honeymoon_. Nothing garnered a stranger’s sympathy faster – or better – than a good tale of romance, adventure, and intrigue.

 

And now, here they were, picking at their rigatoni Bolognese as if it hadn’t cost a whopping $25 for the dish. It was difficult for Lincoln to get back in the mood after his boyfriend had been threatened and held at gunpoint. And anyway, what the _fuck_ was that circular mess of guts on a plate supposed to be? Who the hell had ordered that? “Alex, what the fuck is that?” Lincoln asked as he shoved the plate away in disgust.

 

“That’s your steak tartare,” Alex said with just as much disdain. “I was wondering why you ordered it.”

 

“If you knew it was going to look like that, why didn’t you say something?”

 

“I thought you knew that you were ordering raw beef.”

 

“No, I thought I was ordering steak. Why didn’t they put _raw beef_ on the menu instead of steak _tartare_? What does that even mean?”

 

“Something that will be served raw, usually in a round cake form.”

 

Lincoln tried not to grin like a bastard when Alex moved in closer to his left side, indicating that he wanted to be held. After spending most of the week chasing after Alex, it was nice to finally have his boyfriend come to him for a change. So Lincoln wrapped his muscular arm around Alex, relieved when he noticed that his boyfriend had stopped trembling, and held up a forkful of rigatoni. “Time to fatten you up,” he joked, preventing Alex from escaping while he coerced him into accepting the pasta that he’d speared with his own fork. Either Alex had mellowed out over the past hour, or he was too hungry to protest, because he ate the pasta from Lincoln’s fork. Which led Lincoln to believe that it was now okay to start feeding him like that because he alternated between shoveling the food into his own mouth and offering it to Alex. By the time they’d gotten through the rigatoni, Lincoln could actually feel how relaxed Alex was against him. Next, Lincoln took a massive bite out of a lobster roll and let out a contented sigh. “We should eat this every day.”

 

Before Lincoln could finish the lobster roll, Alex snatched it out of his hand and made short work of it. “I don’t think we can afford to eat here once a month, never mind every day.” Even if they managed to pull off Self’s scheme by getting their hands on Scylla, thereby clearing their names, they would still be unemployed when the dust settled. Unemployed riff-raff weren’t welcome at the Hollywood Roosevelt, or any other respectable establishment for that matter.

 

As Lincoln was reaching for one of the Kennebec fries, his cell phone began to vibrate on the table next to his napkin. He activated the screen and quickly read Michael’s brief message.

 

_Are you at the hotel now?_

_Is Alex okay?_

It was nice to know that his baby brother cared enough to ask about Alex. By now, Michael had to know how much Lincoln cared about Alex because he’d gone out of his way to leave enough hints. And spending a night together in a hotel room that was going to cost close to $1000, not including food and drinks, ought to leave very little to the imagination.

 

_Yeah._

_He’s doing better._

 

Lincoln sent his reply and picked up his martini to cleanse his palate. He had no idea how much a martini actually cost, only that he’d always wanted to try one after seeing them in just about every popular spy movie. After taking a few sips, he discovered that he was more of a beer man, and less of a Tony Stark person.

 

_Do you need picked up in the morning?_

“You’re lucky to have such a dedicated brother,” Alex commented after accidentally glancing at Lincoln’s cell phone screen.

 

“Yeah. Not many people would get themselves locked up just to break out a family member.”

 

“ _Nobody_ but Michael would have the guts or the brains to pull that off,” Alex said, sounding a bit awestruck.

 

“I’d have the guts to do it for you,” Lincoln argued, leaving out the brains part because he knew that he couldn’t compete with either Michael or Alex. As stupid as he knew his flirty declaration had sounded, it was worth it to watch Alex blush and drop his gaze back to their eating utensils.

_I’ll call you when we do._

_Thanks!_

 

Once Lincoln had sent the text message on its way, he sat back and surveyed what they had left on the table, automatically excluding the steak tartare. As amusing – and arousing – as it was to feed Alex overpriced morsels that the well-to-do were accustomed to ingesting, Lincoln had other plans for the night and didn’t want to spend so much time on the food. Passing Alex the salmon and a fork, Lincoln eagerly dug into the roasted chicken because wasting such delicious food was a crime.

 

“You didn’t order dessert?” Alex innocently asked when they’d cleared all the plates at the table.

 

“Do you need dessert?” If Alex was perky enough to be looking for sugar, that meant that he was feeling better. And Lincoln wanted nothing more than for Alex to feel good, so he picked up the phone by the table and called room service. “Yeah, what do you have for dessert? The banana split for two sounds good. Thanks!” After he’d hung up, he turned to Alex and kissed him wetly on the lips. “I hope we have $26 left to pay for that or else you’re gonna be washing dishes tonight.”

 

“Or you could scrub the floors,” Alex countered, gripping Lincoln by his large shoulders and leaning in close to kiss him back.

 

Lincoln said nothing to that because he was enjoying the kiss too much to bother with words. But he was thinking that if they did include the floor in their plans tonight, it would involve Alex lying on it on his back with Lincoln on top. Now _that_ inspired a much more appetizing image than some overpriced banana split.

 

* * *

 

By the time Alex found himself under the showerhead, it had to be close to midnight. The banana split had been very filling, so they’d moved around a bit afterwards, watching bits and pieces of a popular drama on the high-definition, flat-screen TV, before taking their drinks out onto the balcony to enjoy the night view. While Alex had pretty much gotten used to the aggressive way that Lincoln came after him for kisses, and some creative groping – which seemed to be escalating at an alarming rate – he didn’t know how to interpret the fervent looks Lincoln had begun to throw his way. Lincoln didn’t need to try to look intimidating. To any outsider, he might appear to be in a perpetual state of rage. He just had this angry, unsettling look to him. Or, if it wasn’t the anger, it was the cold indifference. Like he couldn’t care less about what was going on around him, so long as it didn’t directly affect him. But the looks Lincoln had been giving Alex out on the balcony had been like a glacial fire – cold and calculating, but at the same time smoldering like a fiery inferno. It was that look that warmed Alex up more than the hot steamy spray of the shower that he was daydreaming in.

 

The washroom was very sleek and modern, very airy with its open design, marble countertop, streamlined sink, large vanity mirror, and the beehive pattern of marble tiles in the shower stall that were a relaxing monochrome grey in color. It was so unlike the public restroom that he’d been using to shower in for the last few weeks. It was nice to see a proper shower curtain in place instead of a ratty, dirty plastic sheet that felt like it was covered in layers of grime. And the bottom of the shower stall in the hotel was nice and smooth, and _clean_ , instead of being riddled with rust stains and mold. Alex found himself looking forward to using the big white fluffy monogrammed towel that was rolled up and waiting for him on the shelf immediately outside the shower stall. Along with the high powered hair dryer that would prevent him from catching a cold in the bedroom, which was now quite chilly thanks to Lincoln leaving the balcony door open for half the night.

 

All of a sudden, Alex’s meandering thoughts were interrupted by the large muscular outline of Lincoln who became clearly visible on the other side of that transparent shower curtain when Alex brushed the stream of water from his eyes. He instinctively backed further into the shower stall and dropped both hands to cover his crotch in embarrassment. What was Lincoln doing inside the washroom?! Alex had asked him if he needed to use the facilities before he’d come in to take a shower. And they’d already taken turns brushing their teeth, so what could Lincoln possibly need to do in the washroom that couldn’t have waited another ten minutes?

 

 _Oh my God!_ Alex watched with a combination of fascination and horror as Lincoln began to strip in front of him. It wasn’t meant to be erotic either because Lincoln just unzipped his jeans, dropped them, and then lowered his boxers before kicking them off too. And lastly, off came the t-shirt. But by that point it didn’t matter because Alex was staring at the ex-con’s proudly jutting erection and panicking over what Lincoln intended to do with it. And then Lincoln was pulling the shower curtain aside and stepping under the spray of the shower with him. Forcing his eyes to Lincoln’s face and holding his gaze there, he tried not to look frightened as hell at the prospect of his boyfriend grabbing for him while they were both naked.

 

“You’re covered in bruises,” Lincoln said gruffly as he took a step towards Alex, cramming him back against the far wall of the shower stall. “Come on, you must’ve seen other men naked before,” he complained with a bit of impatience when Alex would not come to him.

 

“Not this close,” Alex corrected Lincoln on that minor detail, not sharing the story of how he had pulled a razorblade on the last sleazebag who had come after him while he’d been showering, back in Sona. He kept his blue eyes locked on the ex-con’s green ones, desperately trying to prevent them from straying to Lincoln’s muscular chest and powerful arms. Because Lincoln’s body looked like it had been fashioned after a Greek god’s. He was absolutely perfect in every way, the epitome of masculinity. From his six-pack of abs, all the way down to his very prominent… “ _Linc_ , I think that we should’ve discussed this first.” Because it was impossible not to feel his eyes beginning to wander again and he didn’t want to spur Lincoln on until he felt comfortable with where things were headed.

 

“You left the door unlocked,” Lincoln pointed out.

 

Alex couldn’t help but stare at Lincoln in utter disbelief. “You came in here because you thought that an unlocked door equaled an open invitation?” The incredulity in his voice tapered off the second he discovered that whereas he had been keeping his eyes on Lincoln’s face to be polite, Lincoln, on the other hand, had no such compunction. Lincoln’s eyes were roaming up and down his body like it was the most delectable visual candy, lingering in spots that made Alex feel flushed and nervous.

 

“No. I came in because the door was unlocked,” he answered simply. “And because I wanted to see you like this.” Not giving Alex the opportunity to escape, Lincoln took another step forward, reached down to cup Alex’s ass in the palms of his hands, and pulled him in close. Really close. Right before he nudged his thigh right between Alex’s legs, pinning him to the tiled wall of the shower stall like that. He smirked filthily at Alex when the pressure of his thigh coaxed the ex-agent into hardening against him. “You still need to discuss this?” He challenged, grasping Alex’s buttocks tightly and lifting him higher up on his thigh so that his boyfriend had to struggle to keep his footing on his tiptoes.

 

Was Lincoln expecting him to answer? Alex seriously hoped not because the position Lincoln had him in was so erotic that all he could do was close his eyes against the pelting water of the showerhead and moan. It felt _that_ good. Having Lincoln’s large rough hands on him, and the feeling of that muscular thigh rubbing against him, destroyed any rational thoughts that Alex may have had left in his head.

 

When Lincoln released Alex’s ass and wrapped one arm around his back to hold him still, Alex opened his eyes again to slits to see what he was up to. “Linc, no,” he weakly protested, gasping when a rough callused thumb began to circle his left nipple.

 

“I’ll bet that you’re this sensitive _everywhere_ ,” Lincoln breathed into Alex’s ear, rubbing the nipple firmly until it was taut enough to pinch.

 

“Ahh!” The sharp cry escaped Alex’s lips before he could swallow it, but the next minute he was silenced by the thrust of Lincoln’s tongue in his mouth as he was kissed hungrily. Not knowing what else to do, Alex wrapped his arms around Lincoln’s neck and returned the kiss, throwing caution to the wind and acting on instinct alone. Because he had no experience with being touched or manipulated by a man. Pam may have had her feisty moments, but she had never shoved him up against the shower wall to molest him while he was helpless to stop her. No one had ever touched Alex in the way that Lincoln was touching him now. It was like Lincoln knew exactly how to touch him, and where, to completely destroy all his defenses.

 

Alex shivered all over when Lincoln dragged one hand down his chest, over his nicely toned abdomen, and lower still, until those clever fingers were drifting through the light brown curls between his legs. And then Lincoln was grasping him firmly, giving him no warning or time to prepare as he began to stroke him. Alex moaned into Lincoln’s mouth, trying to pull free so that he could breathe because he felt like he was on the verge of another panic attack. Or something that felt like a panic attack.

 

Lincoln allowed Alex to escape their prolonged kiss, but not without punishing him for it. “Stop holding back,” he growled, pressing his bearded face in close to Alex’s chest so that he could begin to lick his boyfriend’s right nipple. When Alex let out a sobbing moan, Lincoln stroked his back reassuringly. “That’s it,” he praised, sealing his lips over the nipple so that he could lathe it properly with his tongue. He licked and sucked on it until just the ghost of his breath over it made Alex twitch in anticipation. And then he moved his attention to Alex’s left nipple, flicking the tip of his tongue over it before sucking it between his lips. When his teeth carefully grazed the swollen nipple, Alex made a noise that was too wild to pass off as either a whimper or a moan.

 

Everything was on fire. Every inch of Alex’s skin felt oversensitive and buzzing with electricity. He found himself longing for more of Lincoln’s skilled touches and passionate kisses, no longer caring that he hadn’t planned for any of this. And no longer questioning just how far Lincoln intended to take things. His hands moved over Lincoln’s body of their own volition, tentative at first, but becoming bolder when his boyfriend grunted his approval. Lincoln’s entire body was nothing but solid muscle, hard and powerful. Alex stroked his hands down Lincoln’s shoulders, leaning in closer to try and make out the tattoos that covered both of the ex-con’s arms. Michael’s upper body tattoo had been cleverly designed with the blueprints of Fox River hidden in it, which had made it an intellectual work of art. But Lincoln’s tattoos were different. Each one represented a memory or an idea that was important to him. Lincoln obviously loved the sea because there were many images connected to boats and fishing. An anchor on the inside of his right forearm, a large classic star compass on his left deltoid, superimposed over what looked like an ancient’s pirate’s treasure map, and a very elaborate Celtic cross covered the upper portion of his right arm. There were words and phrases artistically scrawled here and there as well, but Alex couldn’t read them without his glasses.

 

“ _Fuck,”_ Lincoln groaned when Alex brushed a questing hand over his straining cock. “Put your hand on me,” he demanded, squeezing Alex into complying.

 

Alex wrapped his fingers around Lincoln’s length and began to stroke him eagerly, wanting to see the larger man lose control. “Like this?” He asked seductively as he slid his thumb over the swollen head of Lincoln’s arousal.

 

“Harder,” Lincoln ordered, crushing his lips to Alex’s in a bruising kiss while rocking his hips into the ex-agent’s grip.

 

Just when Alex thought that he may have been getting comfortable with the very pleasurable intimacy, Lincoln took things to a whole new level. As Lincoln was deepening the kiss, Alex tried sucking on the ex-con’s tongue to see what reaction that would get him, and that’s when he felt the blunt tip of Lincoln’s finger slide down between his buttocks to press at the tight opening to his body. He attempted to protest but Lincoln stopped stroking him in favor of wrapping an arm around him to trap him there, so that he had no choice but to endure the probing finger that gently pressed into him. Lincoln continued to kiss him in a leisurely manner while that finger grew bolder, opening Alex up on it as he pushed it in deeper, and a lot quicker. Alex frantically broke the kiss to stop Lincoln before the pain got any worse. “Linc, stop! That hurts.”

 

“Sorry, I forgot the lube on the bed.”

 

Alex reddened considerably upon hearing that. Lincoln had planned for this all along! It shouldn’t have been that surprising considering Lincoln’s persistent nature. “I have never done this before,” Alex said angrily, feeling like he was going to die of shame, but needing to put Lincoln in his place. “You obviously have. So if you can’t be gentle and do it properly…” He let the threat dwindle off there, but made it perfectly clear that Lincoln would find himself taking his own shower if he tried to rush things along like that again.

“I said I was sorry,” Lincoln said, sounding wounded. “I know that you’ve never done this before. I would never hurt you on purpose.” He stroked both hands down Alex’s back and kissed him again. “Come to the bed.”

 

“Why can’t you just go and get it?” Alex asked, referring to the lube. “It’s warm in here.”

 

“Because it’ll hurt if you haven’t done it before,” Lincoln said bluntly. “I was gonna take you back to the bed one way or another, so…”

 

“Oh.” Alex hadn’t been aware that one location was more painful than another, unless Lincoln had meant the angle of penetration… _Oh_ … That’s probably what he had meant. Did Alex really want to do this? With Lincoln? When Lincoln began to caress his face and look all guilty and apologetic, Alex decided that he did want to be with the ex-con in that way.

 

“Come out,” Lincoln beckoned, tugging on Alex’s arm. “I’ll dry you off.” But Lincoln’s version of drying off involved briskly rubbing Alex in all the places that he was most sensitive with the towel, before snapping it at his ass. “Get onto the bed,” he said as he began to dry himself off even more enthusiastically.

 

“Next time I can dry myself off,” Alex muttered to himself as he gingerly touched the red streak that the towel had left behind on his right ass cheek. He’d barely had enough time to sit down when Lincoln launched himself onto the bed after him, tackling him onto his back. And then the kissing and groping started again, but this time in a more urgent manner. Alex grasped Lincoln by his upper arms and tried to keep up, but it had been so long since he’d been intimate with anyone and it really showed in the way he moaned and practically came apart when his body was played like Lincoln’s own personal pinball machine. Eventually, Alex felt a finger searching between his legs again, but this time it was slippery and cool, having been coated in lube. He evened out his breathing and willed himself to relax, wanting to know what it would feel like to have it inside him. He didn’t have to wait long to find out because Lincoln pushed his legs open wider and sank his finger in deeper, watching his face the whole time.

 

“You like this?” Lincoln asked in his usual straightforward manner, but with a very sexual slant to it.

 

Alex whimpered when Lincoln’s finger curved upwards and brushed against his prostate, which electrified his nerve endings in the most incredible way. And once Lincoln was sure that he’d found the right spot, he kept at it, hitting it over and over again until Alex found himself moaning for more. Lincoln squeezed in a second finger, making Alex feel stretched, and repeated the motions, but slower and gentler. By the time Lincoln inserted a third finger, Alex had grown accustomed to the sensation enough to know how to go about getting his lover to give him more of it. All he needed to do was moan in a certain way, or grind down onto Lincoln’s fingers, and Lincoln would thrust them in a little harder or deeper, alternating the angle to keep it interesting.

 

“Are you ready for me now?” Lincoln asked in an unexpectedly soft tone as he bent down to kiss Alex once more.

 

“I think so,” Alex replied lazily, his entire body buzzing with sensation.

 

“Good.” And then Lincoln was lifting Alex’s legs up to stuff a pillow under his backside, trying to arrange him in a certain way that would presumably make things more comfortable. Alex trusted that Lincoln knew what he was doing and tried not to fidget when his legs were pushed up and back, leaving him completely exposed and at the mercy of the ex-con. Lincoln took a moment to stroke a thick layer of lube onto his cock, before he positioned himself between Alex’s legs. “Relax,” Lincoln instructed as he brushed the rounded head of his cock against Alex’s clenched entrance.

 

“I am relaxed,” Alex insisted, instinctively pulling away when Lincoln began to apply pressure to breach him.

 

“No, you’re not.” Lincoln continued to sound patient and caring as he paused in his movements. “You’re never relaxed,” he said knowingly, sliding down on top of Alex so that he could kiss him. “You don’t know how to relax,” he teased, grinning into Alex’s flushed face. “But…” He grunted as he pushed forward, his cock penetrating Alex with no resistance. “You’re easily distracted,” he finished, sinking into Alex slowly but surely. Alex made soft gasping sounds and grabbed onto Lincoln’s arms, but no longer tried to get away from him. “I like you like this,” Lincoln said with a smirk when Alex let out a keen moan, thrusting in even deeper to wring another one out of him. “Do you know how _tight_ you are?” He grunted, his words ending on a pleasurable moan.

 

“ _Linc_ …,” Alex breathlessly moaned, reaching up to clasp his hand around the back of Lincoln’s thick neck so that he could pull him back down for a kiss.

 

Sensing Alex’s desperation, Lincoln covered Alex’s mouth with his own, letting his tongue lick and taste his lover while he thrust his hips forward and grinded in tighter.

 

Alex felt the pleasure building inside of him as Lincoln hit that spot that made his core burn with ecstasy and had him arching up to beg his lover for more. “Linc,” Alex moaned again. “You feel so _good_.”

 

Lincoln’s expression darkened upon hearing that, his eyes glowing with lust. “So do you, Alex. It feels good to fuck you like this, to watch you come for me.” And then his hand wrapped around Alex’s cock to begin stroking, bringing him off quickly because he’d been so close. When Alex was beginning to sound hoarse from moaning, Lincoln thrust into him a few more times and groaned long and hard as he came inside his lover. “Yeah… that’s _so good_ ,” he groaned when Alex reflexively tightened around him even more. Lincoln held himself above Alex for a few heartbeats as he tamed his ragged breathing and waited for his lover to regain his senses. Then the bed shifted as Lincoln sat back and carefully withdrew from Alex.

 

“Where are you going?” Alex asked with remorse when Lincoln climbed off of the bed and disappeared from his field of view.

 

Less than a minute later, Lincoln returned with a damp washcloth, which he used to clean Alex off, before he tossed it onto the floor and used the remote control to lower the lighting in the room further. “Get inside before you catch a cold,” he said roughly as he pulled back the sheets and the warm down comforter that they’d been lying on top of.

 

Alex stiffly rolled onto his side and crawled into the bed with Lincoln, making himself comfortable against his lover’s side, with his head resting on that strong muscular chest. He felt the sheets and the comforter being pulled up over him and sighed. There were no words to describe how giving himself to Lincoln had made him feel. How incomparable their lovemaking had been to anything else he’d experienced in his life. He hadn’t realized that he had needed Lincoln _this_ much, or how much he was willing to sacrifice to stay with him now that they were together. There could be only one reason for the intensity of his emotions. “Linc…”

 

As if sensing what Alex was about to say, Lincoln quickly cut him off. “Like I told you before, you belong to me, Alex. Now more than ever.” He draped his opposite arm over Alex’s waist and began to soothingly stroke his lower back, occasionally venturing to the curve of his backside. But he didn’t say anything else, and that’s the way they stayed until Alex’s eyelids began to feel very heavy. The king sized bed was very soft and warm, and Lincoln was comforting to sleep next to. It didn’t take long before Alex allowed himself to be lured into a very peaceful nightmare-free slumber.  


	5. Chapter 5

At a little before 8am, Lincoln slowly opened the door to their hotel room and peered out into the hall.

 

“Your room service, Sir,” the young man in the Hollywood Roosevelt’s clean and proper uniform announced as he held out the rather large tray by way of explanation. “Two deluxe breakfast sets, a freshly brewed pot of coffee, and some milk and orange juice. Where would you like me to set this down?”

 

Not inside the room, that’s for sure! Alex was still asleep and Lincoln was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He’d woken up to the soft rapping on the door first, not wanting anything to disturb Alex until he’d had a sufficient seven hours of sleep. But waking up next to that warm, slender body had done things to his sex drive that had provoked quite the early morning erection. The man outside the door with their breakfast probably wouldn’t be too comfortable with having that shoved in his face. “I can get it,” Lincoln said in his no-nonsense tone as he reached out, took the tray with one hand, and quickly retreated back into the room before the man could catch a glimpse of the state of his towel. “Hang on.” Closing the door behind him, he took the tray over to the dining table, set it down, and then picked his jeans up off of the floor to get a few bills from the pocket. He opened the door again, passed the man $5, and thanked him for his services… by closing the door in his face.

 

“Linc?”

 

So much for letting Alex sleep a little longer. Returning to the bed, Lincoln smiled when those sleepy blue eyes looked up at him with a fondness that their night together had amplified. “Did you sleep well?”

 

Alex stretched, allowing Lincoln to enjoy the view when the sheets slipped down his back. But Alex winced suddenly and lay back down on his side in obvious discomfort. “I haven’t slept so well in…”

 

“I’d guess a long time,” Lincoln interrupted, not wanting Alex to calculate how long it had been since he’d killed Oscar Shales. “Are you okay?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, lowered his hand to Alex’s hip, and began to stroke him there.

 

“I just pulled something stretching.”

 

“The first few times are rough,” Lincoln said sympathetically as he altered his angle so that he could stroke Alex’s backside instead. “But you’ll get used to it.” Before their encounter with the Company’s agents yesterday, Lincoln hadn’t been entirely confident that their night together would be so _memorable_. He had been holding back with Alex for a while, and would have continued to do so, if it hadn’t been for Alex’s traumatic event. If Alex hadn’t been held at gunpoint, Lincoln might have been a lot more hesitant with his actions last night. But to have Alex nearly taken from him like that, in the exact same way that his previous lovers had been… It had forced Lincoln to fully embrace his feelings for Alex and release his more expressive side in order to act on them. He was a man who hated regretting things, so he’d be damned if he didn’t take advantage of every moment with his new flame from now on.

 

“I hope so,” Alex said earnestly, indicating that he did want to be intimate with Lincoln again, which only reinforced the feeling that Lincoln had made the right decision. “Something smells good.”

 

“We just got breakfast delivered. Do you want to sit down at the dining table, or eat on the bed? I can bring it over.”

 

“If you don’t mind. Those chairs don’t look so soft.”

 

Knowing that Alex really meant to say that he felt too sore to sit in the chair, Lincoln went back to the dining table to move the tray over to the bed. He removed the lids off of the plates and climbed onto the bed beside Alex, being careful not to knock over the coffee pot. “This is complimentary, right?”

 

“What do you mean?” Alex asked as he picked up a piece of toast and bit into it. “I’m starving,” he sighed as he took a fork to the scrambled eggs and sausages next. “And this is really delicious.”

 

Lincoln gave Alex a peculiar look before drowning his pancakes in maple syrup. “As in the hotel is paying for it,” he mumbled between bites of fluffy pancake goodness.

 

“Why would the hotel pay for it?” Helping himself to a slice of bacon next, Alex happily enjoyed the second best meal that he’d had in months.

 

“Aww, shit,” Lincoln cursed, dropping his fork back onto the tray.

 

“What?”

 

Ignoring the baffled look that Alex gave him, Lincoln immediately jumped into a rant where he blamed the hotel for being ambiguous with the way they had phrased, _Will you be needing breakfast in the morning?_ “You know when you took off to use the restroom and left me alone at the front desk yesterday?”

 

“Um… kind of… Yesterday is a bit of a blur,” Alex replied distractedly as he helped himself to Lincoln’s pancakes.

 

If Lincoln hadn’t been so worried about his blunder, he would’ve wrestled Alex onto the bed and attacked him with kisses. Because not only was Alex looking a lot healthier with his newfound appetite, but he was also taking the liberty of scavenging Lincoln’s plate. And nothing was sexier in the morning than sitting on a gorgeous king sized bed – naked – and sharing food. “Well that guy asked me if we would be needing breakfast. And I said yes.”

 

“What do you mean? That wasn’t on the bill yesterday,” Alex said slowly.

 

“Exactly! It’ll be on the bill today!”

 

“Linc, we don’t have anymore money. If I calculated it correctly, you should only have $5 left.”

 

“Not anymore…”

 

Alex let his fork clatter onto the tray and picked up the lids that had been covering the food, moving them out of the way to find a neatly printed bill on the corner of the tray. “$65.50?! For breakfast?!”

 

“Look, just calm down. Relax and enjoy your overpriced meal. We can just sneak out through the pool exit afterwards.”

 

“They have cameras!”

 

“The whole fucking world has cameras, Alex! It doesn’t mean that someone is sitting on their ass 24/7 staring at them!” Regretting that he had raised his voice, Lincoln placed his hand over Alex’s and nudged it back over to the fork. “It’s already here. So just eat it. Nobody’s gonna peel your fruit for you back at that shitty warehouse, so you’d better enjoy it while it lasts.”

 

“$65.50,” Alex muttered under his breath as he targeted the bowl of freshly sliced fruits next.

 

“For breakfast,” Lincoln added, laughing when Alex threw a grape at his head. “Do that again and you’ll be eating the food off of the floor.”

 

* * *

 

 _  
The things I put up with…_ Michael gave his brother a subtly concealed dirty look as he counted out $65.50 in exact change and placed it down on the counter before the man at the front desk. At his side, Lincoln was making no effort to be inconspicuous as he helped himself to a handful of complimentary candies from the bowl near the _welcome_ sign, even going so far as to make the pen by the comments box disappear. Old habits seemed to die hard.

 

“Were you at the wedding?” The front desk clerk asked Michael, his dark eyes sparkling with inquisitive delight.

 

“The wedding…” Michael repeated slowly, being careful not to phrase it as a question. What kind of ludicrous tale had Lincoln spun for this man last night? Lincoln hadn’t seriously led this man to believe that Alex was his…?

 

“And how was your honeymoon, Sir?” Not waiting for Michael’s answer, the overeager clerk aimed his next question at Alex who appeared on Lincoln’s left side.

 

 _Honeymoon?!_ Now _that_ was going too far! Michael glanced over at Alex, doing his best to keep his expression neutral and his mouth shut, when he really wanted to demand what had taken the ex-agent so long to get his ass to the lobby. Lincoln had come down first to explain the situation to Michael, and to ask to borrow the necessary amount to cover whatever lavish breakfast the two lovebirds had feasted on. But it had taken Alex an extra fifteen minutes to join them, which was peculiar because he was usually so punctual.

 

Having been put on the spot, Alex could only stand there and blush as Lincoln wrapped an arm around him and rescued him with his own response. “It was really good,” Lincoln said enthusiastically.

 

“Well, if there aren’t anymore hidden fees that need to be dealt with, I think that we should be on our way,” Michael jumped in before Lincoln could say something that might be construed as overly sexual. He just had this look on his face that was dangerously unguarded. And the way he was eyeing Alex up and down… Well, Michael had had enough of that for one morning. Not waiting for anyone to ask him how he knew the lovely couple, he quickly turned away from the counter and walked out of the lobby and into the parking lot, moving as calmly as possible. When he was halfway through the parking lot, he cast a worried glance behind him because he couldn’t hear anyone talking. He instantly regretted it when he was assaulted with the image of Lincoln pulling Alex in for a very raunchy kiss. And the way Alex was walking… Michael had spent too long in prison to not know what that stiff, cautious shuffle was caused by. He’d seen it a million times the morning after a newcomer had been taken aside for some initiation by a seasoned inmate on the prowl for fresh blood. Michael had never imagined that he’d see Alex walking that way, or that he’d catch his brother kissing another man. How the hell was he going to purge _that_ image from his mind? His memory was so precise it was nearly eidetic, so he was probably going to be stuck with that image for life!

 

Moving a lot quicker to put some distance between himself and his teammates’ very public display of affection, Michael got to the SUV, unlocked the doors, and hid inside the vehicle. He kept his attention on the passenger’s side door, wondering who would choose to sit beside him. While he would automatically expect Lincoln to demand to sit up front, he was wary of Alex choosing to do so instead. Humans were very predictable when it came to their need to belong and be accepted. Now that Alex was _with_ Lincoln, Michael anticipated himself being pressured into bonding with the ex-agent.

 

The door behind Michael opened and Lincoln climbed in, slamming the door behind him. There apparently wasn’t much about human nature that Michael didn’t understand. Bracing himself for Alex to hop into the front seat, Michael was taken aback when the rear door opened on the passenger’s side and the ex-agent climbed in beside Lincoln instead. Well… that had been unexpected.

 

Having no one to talk to and feeling ten shades of uncomfortable, Michael turned on the radio and cranked up the volume to listen to some golden oldies. Neither his brother nor the ex-agent made any effort to speak to him as he pulled out of the parking lot, which was fine by him because he had no idea what to say. He imagined that the two lovers in the backseat felt the same way because they weren’t even talking to each other. Why hadn’t he tried harder to persuade Sara into accompanying him this morning? If she had come along for the ride, he wouldn’t have had to endure the creepy silence that three awkward men were capable of producing.

 

After about ten minutes, Michael peered into the rearview mirror to gauge Lincoln’s facial expression. It was difficult to judge seeing as how Lincoln was turned towards Alex. Feeling ridiculous, Michael turned off the radio and forced himself to start up a conversation. “So… how long have you two been _together_?” _No no no!_ That was _not_ what he’d intended to ask! Where the hell had that come from? He’d wanted to inquire about the wrecked sedan, not Lincoln’s relationship with their former enemy.

 

“Nearly two weeks,” Lincoln replied easily.

 

 _Two weeks?!_ Although that was much longer than Lincoln’s average courting period, Michael couldn’t help but react to that very short time frame. Luckily for him, he managed to keep his reaction on the inside, but maintained an air of cool indifference on the outside. “I see…”

 

“What? You’re not going to preach to us about how inadvisable our relationship is?” Alex asked with a short laugh of disbelief. “That’s very uncharacteristic of you, Michael.”

 

Michael groaned and took a deep breath before letting Alex have it. “Well, seeing as how you brought it up, Alex, I will state that the two of you being romantically involved with each other will no doubt cause complications in future missions. How are you going to remain neutral if one of you is held at gunpoint?” When Alex visibly cringed and dropped his gaze, Michael could have kicked himself for his insensitive remark. He’d let the events from last night slip his mind in favor of picking apart what he saw as a relationship destined for failure. He had only meant to illustrate a possible scenario, not bring up bad memories for Alex.

 

“That was real smooth, Michael,” Lincoln said scathingly as he reached over to squeeze Alex’s hand. “And you being with Sara doesn’t cause complications?”

 

“That’s different,” Michael objected, before he realized that it really wasn’t.

 

“You remember how you went off on your own to look for Sara after Panama?” Lincoln asked abruptly.

 

How could he forget? Of course he remembered that heartbreaking journey that he had embarked on all by himself. “Yeah, why?”

 

“If you say or do something to make Alex leave this team, I’m gonna go after him in the same way. That’s how serious I am about this. So either you get over whatever you have against Alex, or we both walk. And I don’t give a shit about what that asshole Self has on us. Ankle monitors can be cut off and passports can still be bought.”

 

So that’s how far Lincoln was willing to take this. “I don’t want Alex to leave the team,” Michael forced himself to admit. “And I’d already wiped the slate clean when I told Self that Alex was necessary for this operation.”

 

“So what’s the problem?”

 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Michael confessed, not the least bit surprised when his words succeeded in hurting Alex instead. “That’s not what I meant,” he quickly backpedaled, trying to explain himself before he pissed Lincoln off. “You’ve already lost two people that meant a great deal to you…” Mainly Lisa Rix, Lincoln’s former flame and the mother of his son LJ, and Veronica Donovan, his old girlfriend. “And no offense Alex, but it would be so easy to make that three people with the way you float in and out of the mission. You’re careless, easily distracted, and far too emotional. If I can see it, so can any Company agent who chooses to attack you in the future.” There, he’d finally gone and said what had been on his mind for the past few weeks. In Michael’s opinion, Alex was like a broken man living on borrowed time. It wouldn’t be long before someone exploited the many weaknesses that Alex had to either kill him outright, or use him as a bargaining chip against Lincoln.

 

“I wasn’t with Lisa or Veronica when they were murdered,” Lincoln protested, his voice raw with emotion. “If I had been… things might have been different. I’m not gonna let anything happen to Alex. If anyone wants to get to him, they’re gonna have to go through me first.”

 

Michael didn’t know what shocked him more. The fact that Lincoln was acting so aggressively protective of Alex, or the fact that Alex was letting him. He could’ve pushed it further if he’d wanted to, but he wasn’t a complete jerk. He knew that Alex was still hurting over the loss of his child and no one had the right to dictate how long his mourning period ought to be. If Lincoln was promising to look out for Alex while he was still vulnerable, Michael guessed that that blind spot was as good as taken care of. “Okay then.”

 

“That’s it?” Lincoln asked, sounding confused.

 

“Yes, Linc. That’s all I needed to hear.” He’d done enough meddling in Lincoln’s life to try and keep him on the right path. It was about time that he stopped interfering and just let Lincoln do his own thing. Besides, Michael had studied Alex like a science experiment, dissecting his past, his relationships, and his behavioral patterns. Alex hadn’t gotten involved with anyone since his divorce, and that had been over two years ago. It had to have taken a special type of interest to get him to give up his loner ways and hook up with Lincoln. And there was no faking the warm look of adoration that Alex was giving Lincoln with those hypnotic blue eyes of his. Well, now it was time for the peace offering. “How about we go out tonight on a double date? We haven’t had much time to talk privately since Self roped us into working for him.”

 

“A double date?” Lincoln scoffed, making a rude noise with his throat. “Nobody does that anymore, Michael.”

 

Michael could barely hide his amusement when Alex whacked Lincoln’s thigh and gave him a reprimanding look. Maybe Alex might be good for something after all if he could reform Lincoln’s bad manners.

 

“Fine. Whatever.”

 

Finally seeing the warehouse up ahead, Michael signaled and drove into the indoor parking area. Someone had conveniently left the doors open for him, so he didn’t have to get out to open them himself. The others were nowhere to be found but Michael knew exactly where everyone was. Sucre was still in bed with his bronchitis, Sara was out for a walk, Brad was picking up some equipment from the hardware store, and Roland was tied to his computer.

 

“I can’t wait to get a clean change of clothes,” Alex exclaimed as he beat Lincoln out of the SUV and went straight for the stairs that led up to the men’s sleeping area. But there was something about the way that he was walking that made Michael wince.

 

“Alex, come with me,” Michael said quickly, stopping the ex-agent from ascending the stairs – and possibly pulling something – while he gestured for Lincoln to come along as well. He led them behind the main meeting area and into the storage room. Flicking on the light, he prepared himself for their reaction to his temporary spark of creativity. “Sara and I didn’t feel that it was fair that you had to stay at a hotel in order to spend time alone, so we came up with _this_.”

 

“Damn! This is cool!” Lincoln shouted as he looked around the redecorated storage room excitedly.

 

“Thank you, Michael. That was very thoughtful of you,” Alex said graciously as he took in his new living space.

 

Michael had moved both Alex and Lincoln’s cots into the storage area with Sara’s help. They’d pushed the cots together in one corner, arranged both men’s belongings on the shelves that were not loaded down with mission equipment, and hung up a dark bed sheet along the shelving that faced the meeting area – and over the entrance – for privacy. The sheets might remind them of their days in prison, but it was the best Michael could do in lieu of an actual wall. And he hadn’t forgotten to hang that superstitious trinket that Lincoln had bought Alex above the cots either. It might not have been as fancy or as private as a room in the Hollywood Roosevelt, but it was a step up from sleeping in a roomful of men and having to sneak out at night to do… whatever Lincoln and Alex did when they were together. Anyway, it was definitely worth it to see Lincoln so positive about something, or to see Alex actually smiling for a change.

 

“I’ll let you know when we pick a place for dinner,” Michael said as he backed out of the room. “Oh, Sara’s paying so make sure that neither of you pick the most expensive thing on the menu,” he warned in advance. He was halfway to the meeting area when he heard the sound of a cot caving in from the combined weight of two people, and then the very unmistakable sound of a very passionate kiss being instigated.


End file.
